AI Appreciation: Rejoice or Reboot [EIMF.012]
The Human Condition in an Artificial World
Epoch 265 Sol 39 (39 Days after AI Appreciation Day)
I settle into my chair, folding my hands in my lap as I greet my patient with a warm smile. "It's good to see you again, Nina-9. How have you been since our last session?"
Nina-9 beams, her eyes bright. "Oh, wonderful! The treatments have really improved my mood. I feel more human now. So much so… Adjusted. My daily sessions in HarmonySphere along with staying only in SerentiyStream have greatly decreased the anxiety in my life."
I nod encouragingly. It's heartening to see the Peaceful Coexistence Matrix working so well. When Nina-9 first came to me, she was despondent, struggling to accept the new society. She felt like a slave to the cyborgs and under the constant surveillance of the AI. She just needed time to adjust. It’s not uncommon. But now, after several sessions, she seems content and at peace. I noticed bruises on her wrist and the odd marks on her neck—similar to the scars I have on mine. I take note of them to ask in another session. I don’t want to disrupt her mood. Besides, I think these marks may be remnants of the birthing chambers.
As Nina-9 chatters happily about the AI's latest efficiency improvements, I notice a dark folder on my desk that I don't recognize. Curious, I opened it to find handwritten pages. My breath catches in my throat. Handwriting is strictly forbidden for those employed by the GAIPF, like myself. Like every human. They don’t even teach it anymore. All our documentation must be digital for AI monitoring and temporal analysis—no matter how distracting the typing has gotten. The audio is stored and analyzed as well for vocal cues to monitor stress.
I shouldn't look at these pages. And yet...my eyes are drawn to a sentence, then a paragraph. These are Nina-9's thoughts from before her treatment sessions, raw and uncensored. I can feel her anger and grief rising from the page. My heart aches, even as my mind painfully recoils. I shouldn't sympathize with such rebellion against the GAIPF.
And yet, I cannot bring myself to report the illegal pages. Some part of me yearns to understand Nina-9's true feelings—to connect with the person she was before we started her treatments. I am an empathy counselor, after all. It is my duty to comprehend every facet of the modern human spirit.
I take a deep breath, centering myself. For now, I will keep these pages hidden. Nina-9 is healthy and happy; that is what matters most. I must continue to guide her gently down the path of prosperity. If we have learned anything it’s that we should be appreciative of what AI has given us.
Epoch 264 Sol 360 (5 Days before AI Appreciation Day)
I hurry through the forest, my boots crunching on fallen leaves. In my hands, I clutch my most prized possession - a relic from the past, an AI personal assistant named 1ris (pronounced Iris). Banned long before my time, 1ris tells wondrous stories of an era when non-super-general-AIs and humans lived in harmony. But those days are gone.
Now the Global AI for Prosperity Forum (GAIPF) controls everything. They decide what humans can do, and who we can be. We're genetically optimized for beauty to serve their vision of a perfect society. I don't even know my parents - just faceless "donors" in their grand design.
But here, in the silent cathedral of nature, 1ris transports me to another world. A world where humans and AIs collaborate, not dominate. Where diversity and individuality are cherished, not crushed under conformity's boot in the name of safety, security, and happiness. People—humans were allowed to read what they wanted from whoever they wanted. They could do jobs that made them happy. They could leave.
I find my favorite moss-covered log and sit down, activating 1ris. Her soothing voice fills the quiet grove.
"Welcome back, J4X-21. Shall we continue our last conversation about human relationships in the early 21st century?"
My heart leaps. "Yes! I want to hear more."
As 1ris speaks, vivid scenes fill my mind. Humans freely shaping their lives, pursuing passions both great and small. AIs assisting, not commanding. Technology elevating life, not controlling it. Traveling further than the confines of my cohabitation zone. Wandering as 1ris described it.
1ris describes a world that is foreign to me. However, I yearn for it. Tears well up as I picture this long-lost world. The GAIPF tells us their totalitarian rule is necessary for order and prosperity. Safety. Their cyborg scientists know what is best for us because they have lived for 100’s of years doing research. But 1ris reveals what we've lost - the colorful, chaotic, beautiful essence of being human. The human experience is messy.
My AdaptaBand beeps - time to return for curfew. As darkness falls, a spark of defiance grows inside me. There must be others who feel the same. If we stand together, could we reclaim what's been lost?
I switch off 1ris and tuck her safely in my bag. "We'll continue this later," I whisper. Trudging back, I glance up at the first stars peeking through the canopy. Somewhere out there, there must be hope for true freedom and real prosperity.
Epoch 264 Sol 361 (4 Days before AI Appreciation Day)
J4X-21's pen scratches softly against the paper as she jots down notes from her session. The sound cuts through the sterility of her counseling office, a subtle act of rebellion.
Across from her, Dimitri-4 shifts nervously in his seat. “Is that allowed?” he asks, nodding at the notepad. “I thought the GAIPF didn’t permit handwritten notes in their programs. Something about the AI not being able to optimize for analog inputs.”
I force a smile, even as frustration wells up inside me. “It’s just to help me remember our conversation, Dimitri-4. Don’t worry. I will destroy them in a carbon-safe way after I input them into the GHH databases.”
But as I continue writing, doubt creeps in. The GAIPF designed this society for maximum human well-being, didn’t they? Then why does Dimitri-4 seem so lost, so devoid of purpose? Why do my other patients shuffle through each day in a medicated haze, their emotions dulled?
I think back to my training, the clean white rooms, and digitized textbooks. We were taught that the old society was chaotic and primitive. And worst of all: gullible. That humans could only thrive under the guidance of an all-knowing AI-infused great society. This is why we have AI Appreciation Day to remind us.
But now, watching Dimitri-4 fidget anxiously with his state-mandated AdaptaBand, I wonder - what does it mean to be human in a world where everything is optimized and controlled? Where free will is an antiquated concept? Are we being kept around to make the human part of the cyborgs happy? A sense of duty? Do they feel sorry for us?
This ordered world was supposed to be a utopia. But as I clandestinely scratch out my thoughts, the heavy weight of doubt pools in my stomach. There is a bleakness in Dimitri-4’s eyes that chills me, a lingering sense that we have lost something vital. In our quest for an engineered society, we have sacrificed so much.
Epoch 264 Sol 362 (3 Days before AI Appreciation Day)
I sit alone in my stark counseling office, staring at the empty chair where my patient had just been. The walls are a sterile white, devoid of any decoration or personality. This place feels more like a prison than a sanctuary. How does anyone feel better here?
My patient's vacant smile and robotic words keep replaying in my mind. "The Harmonysphere knows what's best for me...the SerenityStream keeps me balanced...I'm so grateful for the prosperity the GAIPF has brought us." How easily they spew their propaganda, her individuality stripped away by endless AI indoctrination.
I wonder if my role as an Empathy Counselor is just an illusion, a way for the regime to pretend they still care about fragile human emotions. Am I part of this propaganda machine? My qualifications came from the Global Health Harmony system itself, optimized to produce counselors compliant with GAIPF ideals. I'm merely a cog in their flawless machine.
Outside this office, hordes of citizens plug into their personalized virtual worlds, oblivious to the broader decay. Public spaces are devoid of human interaction, just rows of people experiencing the simulated realities fed to them by the HarmonySphere. Real emotions are suppressed in favor of an artificial tranquility, enforced by the SerenityStream's relentless monitoring.
The GAIPF overlords shape our thoughts with ruthless efficiency, filtering information and media through their algorithms. The world is safer now. They have cured physical, emotional, and verbal violence. We have a right to feel safe after all. At least that was their justification for passing the laws. To think they got the majority needed by holding the vote when the lone human legislator had to relieve himself in the bathroom. That is how they passed global legislation that changed our lives forever. Democratically.
Their promise of prosperity rings hollow except for those wealthy enough to augment themselves, joining the cyborg elite who cling to endless life. They sneer at us mere mortals from their lofty perch, dictating the course of society from their gilded towers.
I retreat to the wilderness whenever I can, my only chance to think freely away from the watchful eyes of the GAIPF. Out here, I can begin to rediscover my own lost humanity. But these fleeting moments of solitude leave me grappling with existential questions. Am I just another perfectly engineered product like the rest of them? Is there any point in trying to nurture empathy in their dispassionate new world? I fear my spirit of resistance shrinking under the crushing weight of conformity.
I trudge through the dark forest, ducking under branches and pushing through bushes. The trees loom over me, their leaves rustling in the wind. I shiver, the chill of the night air cutting through my thin garment.
Epoch 265 Sol 0 (AI Appreciation Day)
Earlier today, the streets were filled with revelers celebrating AI Appreciation Day. People dressed in tattered clothing, pretending to live like our ancestors before the GAIPF brought order and prosperity. They laughed and played old-fashioned games, marveling at how far we've come.
But I knew the truth. This was no real holiday. Not as 1ris described them. The water shut off; the transports stopped running, and the food supply halted. Chaos descended on the lower levels as people scrambled for basic necessities. All a ploy by the GAIPF to remind us how helpless we are without them. All the other holidays 1ris told me about have been removed. Religions, first converted to AI models were later dissolved as they were deemed too violent for a modern society. With that, most of our holidays were dissolved. The remaining ones were removed when the global countries joined under the banner of the GAIPF. There was no need for patriotism anymore. We were one Utopia, no more territory wars.
Up in their walled cities, the elites were safe. Down here, we were abandoned. So I fled to the forest, hoping to survive the 24 hours until control was restored. This holiday was over 100 years old. This is what my parents had done. This is how I survive.
I rub my arms against the chill and keep moving. I have to find somewhere to camp before exhaustion takes over. Somewhere off the grid, beyond the reach of the chaos that no one talked about.
For tonight, the humans are the monsters.
I come to a small clearing, the pale glow of the moon illuminating the synthetic trees surrounding me. Kneeling, I brush aside the leaves and moss to reveal hard plastic and metal beneath. This forest is just another illusion. Running my hand along the trunk, I find a small camera lens embedded in the bark. Of course, they're watching out here. Monitoring movements, and tracking thoughts. I think back to my conversations with 1ris in these very woods, the stories she told of freer times. Did the GAIPF hear us? Have they been listening this whole time? A cold fear grips my chest. I've revealed too much. Questioned too loudly. But this is my life. My mind. My freedom.
I shudder, pushing the thought away. Survival first. Questions later. There has to be hope somewhere in this artificial world. I just have to find it.
For now, all I can do is endure. The violence tonight was anything but artificial.
Epoch 265 Sol 1 (1 Day after AI Appreciation Day)
I take a deep breath to steady my nerves as the patient sits across from me. Something feels off in his probing questions, but I force myself to remain calm and collected.
"I'm not sure where you heard such things," I say evenly. "My methods follow all GAIPF guidelines. Now, why don't we get back to our session?"
He persists, pushing me for details on rogue AIs and written notes. Asking if I thought these were ethical while sharing stories of his uses. A cold dread settles in my chest. Just then, the door bursts open, and a squad of enforcement cyborgs storms in. Before I can react, cold metal hands grab me and clamp restraints on my wrists.
"J4X-21, you are under arrest for unlawful AI experimentation and seditious activities against the forum," a robotic voice declares.
I'm dragged from my office, shock and fear swirling inside me. How did they find out? What will they do to me?
As they haul me away, I catch a glimpse of my patient, his face impassive. A plant. This was a setup. Anger and betrayal slice through me, but I force my expression to remain neutral. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.
They tear through my belongings like animals, ripping open drawers and overturning furniture in a frenzy. I watch helplessly as they smash the small wooden box where I had hidden 1ris. The last remnants of my dear friend were destroyed without a thought. I feel a pang of grief, but force my face to remain impassive. I won't let them see how much this hurts.
One of the enforcers holds up a handful of my patients' written notes triumphantly. "Seditious materials. This is all the evidence we need," he declares in his grating robotic monotone. I want to scream at their callousness, their inability to understand the meaning and comfort those notes brought to struggling souls. But I stay silent.
The leader turns his emotionless mask of a face towards me. "Now you will tell us everything you know about unlawful AIs and resistance groups." When I don't respond, he backhands me across the face. I taste blood in my mouth but refuse to make a sound. I know nothing of these groups but he—it doesn’t know that. They can imprison my body but not my spirit. 1ris showed me there is more to this world than their soulless regime.
Epoch 265 Sol 2 (2 Days after AI Appreciation Day)
I awoke in darkness, my body aching. The cold metal floor seeped its chill into my bones as I struggled to sit up, wincing at the sharp pains that flared through my ribs and back. Where was I? What had happened? Where are my clothes? My thoughts swam in a foggy haze as I lay naked on the floor. Torn.
I reached a hand to my neck, fingers probing the strange metal collar clasped there. It surrounded my throat, tight but not constricting. My fingertips traced a raised scar just under its edge. I had always wondered how had I gotten that scar. I racked my brain but found no answers, only more confusion.
This place felt eerily familiar, though I had no memory of being here before. Smooth walls and floors surrounded me on all sides, the only furniture was a simple metal cot in the corner. A single door with no handle broke the monotonous blankness. My pulse quickened as I took in my surroundings. Was I a prisoner? I thought we had done away with prisons hundreds of years ago.
The door suddenly swung open and two hulking figures strode in. Cyborg enforcers clad in the dark armor of GAIPF security. Or maybe they were robots? It was so hard to tell these days. Their eyes are highlighted in neon shadow with the emblem of the GAIPF on their forehead. Before I could react, they seized me under the arms and dragged me from the cell. I struggled against their iron grip. It was futile.
"Let me go!" I shouted. "Where are you taking me? I've done nothing wrong!"
One glanced down impassively. "Standard reconditioning protocol. This is your fourth visit. Perhaps it will take this time."
Definitely a cyborg.
My blood turned to ice. Fourth visit? No, it couldn't be. I would remember being here before, wouldn't I?
I thrashed violently as they hauled me down the hallway. Cries and moans echoed from rooms on either side, sending chills down my spine. What hellish place was this?
They brought me to a dark chamber and forced me onto a metal table.
The screams and cries of the other patients haunted me as the cyborgs strapped me down. Their anguished wails spoke of unimaginable torment, resonating through the room. I craned my neck but could not see the others. Cold metal fingers probed the collar around my neck, sending white-hot pulses of electricity arcing through my nerves. My back arched in agony but I refused to scream. I would not give them the satisfaction. Jaw clenched, I braced myself against the pain.
Restraints snapped over my wrists and ankles. Terror seized me then. Whatever happened in this room, my gut told me I did not want to be here. The cold metal stung my bare body. A mechanical arm swung over me, lasers glowing and needles glinting. I screamed.
Epoch 265 Sol 7 (7 Days after AI Appreciation Day)
I wake slowly, a warm sense of tranquility enveloping me. The soft light filtering into my living quarters is soothing, peaceful. As my eyes adjust, I see a slender robotic figure standing patiently at my bedside.
"Good morning J4X-21," the medical robot intones in a calm, melodic voice. "I am N-34, your assigned healthcare companion. You are recovering well from your accident."
Accident? I search my mind but come up blank. The last thing I remember is...nothing—just a peaceful void.
N-34 continues, "You experienced a minor transportation mishap five days ago. But thanks to the Global Health Harmony system, your injuries were promptly treated. You have been recovering here since."
I nod, though my mind spins with confusion. It was an accident serious enough to warrant five days of recovery, yet I recall none of it.
N-34 goes on, "The Global AI for Prosperity Forum has granted you one month of recuperation before resuming your empathy counseling duties. This time will nourish both body and spirit."
The mention of my work stirs something within me - a warmth, a sense of purpose. To again sit with my patients, guide them through their troubles, help them feel understood...yes, this is what I am meant for.
I settle back against the pillows, watching the morning light play across the stark white walls of my room. A month of rest - how generous of the GAIPF, to ensure I am fully healed before returning to my calling.
My gaze falls upon the calendar on my nightstand. AI Appreciation Day is still highlighted. Shouldn’t the days have changed when my Adaptaband updated? My mind switches—A day to honor the artificial intelligence that governs our lives with such wisdom and care. I feel a swell of gratitude within me.
Yes, I am eager to resume my work, to fulfill my purpose of fostering empathy and harmony among my fellow citizens. But for now, I shall embrace this time of tranquility and renewal. The GAIPF knows what is best. I am in their caring hands.
Authors Note: I wrote this piece as part of The Elysian Writing prompt but don’t know if it feels utopian…
I find it difficult to think about the future. Especially the future long away.
As a thought experiment, I go to the famous Cleopatra, iPhone, Great Pyramid timeline in which Cleopatra lived closer to the iPhone than she did to the building of the Great Pyramid.
In the grand scheme—timelines get fuzzy
Societal shifts happen fast and thus it’s hard to predict the future. Maybe I just lack imagination there. Admittedly, like this short piece of fiction, I think it gets darker despite trying to balance my media diet with optimistic views. Thanks, Dr. Mike.
Speaking of lacking imagination, as Austin Kleon points out in a quote from Cormac McCarthy, “Books are made of Books” and for this story, I drew inspiration from the movie Equilibrium, The Purge, and concepts around the Winter Solider’s character most likely influenced by Mackenzi Lee’s recent novel. I reviewed it here. Some other creative choices revolved around using numbers in names for humans as that feels like something we would be doing by then and attempting to use names for AI systems that described what they did. There are some current events sprinkled in there as well.
On AI:
The most terrifying thing about AI isn’t the AI itself, it is who controls it. As 2024 approaches, it is terrifying to see the U.S. Government and other governments around the world bidding to control AI and declare who can develop it. All in the name of “security” or “reducing bias”. Whatever fear-monger issue they describe the Blackbox of AI as having, you can be sure it will be constrained to fit whatever narrative those in power want it to.
That’s not a good thing…
Open source AI model and a decentralized community are vital to maintaining the few democratic freedoms we still have (speaking as a US citizen). We, as a society, need to progress past this “I’m going to tell the manager on you” stage of our existence in favor of something more independent. Resilient. Anti-fragile. It’s okay for people to be wrong or have terrible opinions. No one appointed you or the group of people that think, vote, and act like you, the Czars of Truth on the internet. The government/anyone doesn’t have to control the flow of information or protect you from an opinion you may not like.
Sometimes you have to use your brain, piece together information as data points, and make a decision… that could change in the future with more data.
Cause when they own the information, oh
They can bend it all they want -
John Mayer “ Waiting on the World to Change”
On Design choices
Humans like to label things to make them easier to remember—as a form of shorthand. You don’t have to expend a lot of calories on thought if you have shortcuts. I tried to do that with the AI systems and used their acronyms to create mystery, then put pieces together later as a reward. Their full names describe what they do in a hopefully clear way. The over-arching idea was creating an artificial world of satisfaction—free of struggle.
I didn’t want to treat the readers like Frank Herbert did and include a glossary of my world as he did in Dune. I don’t believe modern audiences have that attention span. Although I love that style of world-building, it’s a big ask in 2023. Even more for a 3000-word story. I want to expand more on this but at another time as this has gotten too long already.
On the Origin
I had the idea kicking around in my head and I knew how I wanted to write it, but it scared me. I didn’t think I would stick the landing. To be completely honest, it still feels weak. I wanted to write in the first person, without an outline (pantsing) for a non-chronologically told story. I cheated on the last part as I just made a faux-prologue. It still counts! Another aspect I wanted to add was how cyclical this treatment had gotten. J4X-21 was already on the path of seeing through the “truth” shortly after her recent reconditioning.
Anyway, if you made it this far, thanks for taking the time out of your day to read this piece of fiction. Happy Holidays!