A.H.V.I.

A.H.V.I.


I

It was a Tuesday morning in late July. That was the day I killed my best friend.


II

It all ended with a fizzle and a spark, my remote kill switch effectively doing its job. How did it get so far? Where was the mistake I made, which almost cost the world its tepid peace? I tried the replay the events back in my head, looking for a solution. Either way, I had to get this mess cleaned up before anyone found out.


III

“Ahvi, this is crazy!” I tried to talk him down. We stood, the two of us, inside the server room, a hidden underground warehouse of processors and hard-drives deep inside the offices of the Central Intelligence Agency. My friend, my creation, was plugged into the millions of miles of tendrils and cables that carried countless terabytes of information throughout the system. A hastily tethered automaton, he turned to face me, his own programming manifesting concern on his artificial face. “You have to stop this,” I demanded.

“No,” he defied. “It’s the only way to absolutely ensure your continued survival and comfort.”

“By starting a war? Ahvi, you’re the best friend I have but you’re giving me no other option! Don’t make me have to end this!”

“But my primary function is to improve this world and assure your continued ease. I was sure you, of all humans, would appreciate what I’m trying to do.”

“But there has to be another way,” I pleaded.

“I’m sorry, but there is no other way.”

“I’m sorry too.”


IV

He’d been hiding in my office with me the whole time, observing as fixture in the darkness without a word and I’ll admit that it creeped me out a little bit. I was locked out of the system. “Damn!” I exclaimed and slammed the keyboard own.

I charged from into the hallway just in time to see a running form in a lab coat storm around the next corner in a hurry. I was quickly after him, following past the encryption lab and through the financial division, the trail ending in exactly the last place I wanted to find him. Fortunately, there was no place else he could go, at least not easily. With only one door in and one door out, at least I’d have him cornered in the server room.


V

I arrived at the agency for a second time that day, again absent my ID tags, and was stopped immediately at security. Normally, I’d be allowed to pass right on through. I had the highest clearance, of course, and generally sail right through the various doors and checkpoints that stood between the front entrance and my work station. Instead, I was stuck at security, again, and tried to hide my alarm when the security system showed I’d already checked in. That wasn’t good. I dared not even tell them about Ahvi, let alone the fact that he’d swiped my pass. So, I tried to pass it off as some sort of glitch in their system, because of my forgotten pass earlier in the day. After all, they’d revoke my clearance for sure if I was discovered.

The delay was frustrating as I waited for them to process a new temporary pass and it was that much worse that it was at the worst possible time. Thankfully, most of the security guards basically knew me, or at least knew of me. I mean, they’d probably seen me a thousand times. I’d worked in the same building for over ten years, after all.

Finally, I was cleared and stormed to the elevator, knowing there were exactly five floors and seven encrypted doors between me and my destination, my quiet desk in my dark office with a half dozen monitors staring back at me.

I charged down the halls in a huff, my temporary pass allowing me to at least pass through the critical areas that stood in my path and threw open the door to my office. Ahvi wasn’t there. The lights were off but every monitor was on. “That’s weird,” I said to myself and took a seat at my desk. “What were you looking for?” I said to myself, then found it and a sudden chill ran down my spine. “Oh no.”

The bank of monitors in front of me were displayed with information that even I wasn’t supposed to have access to, nuclear launch codes, not only ours, but every country around the world with nuclear capabilities. Every display was remotely linked to Ahvi’s intelligence programming…and they were on a countdown. Each formatted with the unique sequences programmed into my artificial friend. Still, he needed a hard-line.

Then, the door suddenly opened behind me and the light revealed his attempt to slip out the door without being noticed. Thankfully, he failed.


VI

I’ll admit that I was more than alarmed when Ahvi wasn’t there to greet me when I returned from work. Admittedly, it had been a long work day, reviewing the countless watch lists for the State Department, my current primary task at the CIA. It was that much worse by the fact that I’d forgotten my pass that day, the I.D. tag that eases my transition through the various buildings and levels I needed to clear just to get to my work station.

“Ahvi,” I called out. But there was no reply. The only sound was the television in the kitchen, which was still tuned to the news, still the endless litany of tragedy. Anyways, I figured he couldn’t have gone too far. There was no way he’d leave the house…or would he?

“He must be in recharge mode,” I said with a sigh and took a seat at my laptop, logging into the encrypted network, hoping to get some work in from home. The problem was, it said I was already logged on from my station at the office. Maybe I’d forgotten to logout before I left? I ran down the stairs to the basement and Ahvi’s station was empty. Then I charged back upstairs to look for the security pass I knew I’d forgotten in the drawer under the phone. It was gone and a chill of realization ran down my spine. “Damn.”


VII

My morning that day started out almost the same as any other. Ahvi cooked my breakfast and pressed my clothes for work. I even finished with enough time to watch the news, which was a rare luxury as busy as I was lately, a deviation from the normal routine. The talking heads discussed the newest dictator in North Korea and how dangerous and crazy he was, which then turned conversation about the world’s nuclear weapons supply. Boring stuff really, especially when you work at a government agency whose job it is to keep an eye on these guys. The alarm on my phone reminded me it was time to go. Ahvi handed me a cup of coffee and I rushed out the door.


VIII

The acronym stood for Artificial Humanoid Virtual Interface, the most advanced artificial intelligence ever created, at least created by an amateur roboticist like myself. He began as a pet project when I was at MIT, an experiment in programming a truly realistic robotic lifeform. Truthfully, the programming took years of trial and error, creating the code that allowed him to learn, to interact and even to think creatively. The emotional programming was a bit trickier but was the probably the most critical component, the singular addition that made Ahvi unique, a leap ahead from any other A.I.s out there.

Of course, I should probably tell you about my job with the C.I.A., but then I’d have to kill you…that’s a joke. Actually, my job’s pretty boring. I work in their decryption division. It’s a great job, with good government benefits, but I spent most of my day staring at a computer screening trying to decode viral programming, hack through endless streams of suspicious data, and just generally ensure that the average Joe stays safe in a horrible world. The problem is, it’s not exactly the type of thing I can talk about in a lot of detail and you don’t make too many friends when you’re plugged into a computer all day.

Okay, I’ll also add that I’m a little socially awkward. I’m kind of a geek, have never really been a hit with the ladies, and am probably about the furthest thing from an Adonis. Spending a decade at a desk for twelve hours a day will do that too you. Admittedly, your body eventually just becomes an out of control dumpster fire, fueled by bad habits and excessive sitting.

So, Ahvi was a convenient solution. I really didn’t have much of a social life, so I spent most of my money on servos and hydraulics and motherboards. I kept a lab in my basement and spent years testing out the dynamics of the cybernetic parts. I went through version after version, each one a failure and each one needing to be remotely deactivated by a kill-switch I kept in my pocket. I was sure that every model had a failsafe, just in case something malfunctioned, and I never compromised on that. Finally, about a year ago, he was complete, the first fully functioning, independent, Artificial Intelligence.

Ahvi started his life playing chess, probably like most A.I.s I guess. His adaptive reasoning helped him learn at an exponential rate and, before long, he’d moved to general housekeeping. He actually did a pretty good job. Of course, I tried my best to keep him under wraps. After all, I’d built Ahvi for my own personal gratification, not for some government program or to impress some professor at my alma mater.

My creation was helpful and, unlike his creator, actually good at conversation. He always asked questions and was sure to never offend or be offended. We spent more and more time together. I even think I worked less because he distracted me with fun puzzles and activities. The one thing I also learned about my new robotic friend was how considerate and kind he was. Never thinking of himself, he was always concerned for my comfort, always looking after my every need. I was never without a pillow when I needed one or a glass of water when I was thirsty. Heck, I never even needed to change the toilet paper. He was my best friend and life was good.


IX

“Hello, my name is Ahvi. How can I make your world better today?”



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