Steel Gardens of Anid-Sta Chapter 5. A Doctor Awakens

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 Chapter 5. A Doctor Awakens

A smaller of the bots raced up to the exploring humans as they continued their tour of New Town.

The name made Fae and Amsi laugh, the New Town, Old Town dynamic was often used.

“You’d think if they had a bot that felt it could fly, they would have more imagination for place names.”

“I noticed that. They numbered and did not name craters, there are no towns, really, until we asked.”

Thea flitted close, listening to the exchange.

“Bots do not have the drive to gather when it is dark. Machines do not care if the outside world is light or dark, it is all the same to us, there are no predators on bots.”

“That.” Amsi paused and looked at Fae. “Did you know of any predators?”

“Um. This is the first time I’ve been outside, I never thought to ask.”

“When humans went into the hibernation chambers, the selected zoological genome of every living creature was also preserved, both in DNA samples and in living samples, enough to repopulate the known species if the need arose.”

Fae blinked with the unasked question. *Repopulate*?

“The caution expressed by the human director of zoological preservation we discovered was unfounded.”

“So we have wildlife that wanders around?”

“Often, in town, in the forests, many were just released from the zoos to fend for themselves and they have done well in the time without humans.” Thea pointed to some tracks in the soil.

“This is a hoofed animal, but it is huge.”

“Equines and camelids have evolved to larger sizes because of the higher oxygen levels and the amount of foods available. Nano and microbots have allowed growth without injury, but have not inhibited evolution.” Beekan Luc rode up on a large moth-like ride, barely in control. “This moth design needs modification. No one has worked well for rides, although the can life ten-times their weight.”

“I thought it was a dragon for a moment.” Amsi laughed. “You have it stretched out front-to-back it doesn’t really look like a moth, if you are trying to copy nature.”

“A what? A dragon? What is that?” He shook his head, nearly falling off the oddly shaped moth. “May I introduce myself, I am Beekan Luc, inventor and designer. You can call me Luc. Now about dragons?”

“Mythical creature, you may be better designing a Pegasus kind of creature. They look like winged horses.” Fae suggested to the inventor bot.

“I don’t ever recall seeing DNA of either one. Mythical you say? I can redesign from descriptions, I’ll look in the historical database from human stories. Thank you.” Turning to Thea “Oh! I nearly forgot. Doctor Ofir wants you to return with the humans, the next one is awake.”

“Thank you, Luc.”

Unsteadily, the inventor flew off, yelling at the unstable moth, threatening to recycle it into a floor-tile.

In the recovery room, Doctor Igari Shimona, MD, spoke in deep conversation with the small bot that claimed to be a doctor.

Doctor Ofir Bhabel repeated that such a long time had passed, that Doctor Shimona was not the first awakened because the Core System felt there was a danger, thus selected humans, chosen for reanimation that were more appropriate.

“I still cannot believe that we have been in stasis for longer than the history of humankind prior to our preservation.” He pulled at his lower lip. “Has any communication from Earth ever been received?”

“Doctor Shimona?” Amsi’s voice was louder than he expected in the small recovery room.

“Yes?” The smile widened. It was the first two humans he had seen since he awoke.

“I am Amsi Itt-Tejo and this is engineer Fae MacLir. Welcome to what seems to be paradise.” He held out his hand.

“Thank you.” He took the hand. “Igari Shimona, director of Federal Medical University. Although I don’t imagine there are many classes at the moment.”

Fae shook his hand.

“You’re correct. But there will be. We have thousands of people to wake up and some to save.” Fae smiled.

Amsi nodded.

“There have been some system failures, we have people who have lost a large margin of their anti-icing fluids, the Core System…”

“Excuse me, Core System?”

“The main computer area. There is no single computer anymore, the computers operate independent from each other and have evolved AI beyond anything programmed by us humans.”

“I have found that out by arguing with Doctor Bhabel here.

“Ahem. Doctor Ofir.” A glittering eye showed the offense that the human doctor apologized for.

“The part that amazes me of this all is the lack of wear on everything, anything.” Doctor Shimona looked around. “Nothing is rubbed off, scratched or rusted.

“You will learn that nanobots are highly effective.” A red colored minibot, taller than most, rode in on what looked like a sparrow-hawk. “Doctor Ofir, I expected a report by the time humans awakened.”

“Officially, they are not. These are the evaluators that decide whether the rest will be so treated or they will return back to hibernation. Core System has determined the first two, the third, Doctor Shimona here, just awakened and is proving to be fully functional. There is no report to file yet.”

“Hm.” Red-bot sounded unconvinced. “Humans. Greetings. I am Ireama Bitemi, I am the oversight and safety control for your reanimation. Are there any questions you may have for my team?”

“Yes, I have one.” Amsi stepped forward.

“This is for your leader to ask. Not for subjects of the one who makes choices. He is director, according to the file.” Bitemi looked at a display in his hand. “You have no rank I can see for administration, you are an engineer.”

“That is rude.” Doctor Ofir gasped.

“I am not the leader you think I am. I am a director of a school, let him ask the question.”

Unaccustomed to being treated in such a manner, the bureaucrat capitulated to the small majority.

“A percentage of pods with helium at preservation temperatures, but over the years, they have lost the preservation liquid.  No logs exist, anywhere, for reason why.”

“There has been a minor percentage that have lost fluids, but there has been no loss in systemic function. They are a minor loss.”

“Not so minor to those who lose their stasis vitrification stand a better-than-fair chance of never being reanimated.”

“Perhaps you can ask your doctor to explain it to you.” Administrator Bitemi climbed on his sparrowhawk. “I will check in later, I have important matters to attend to. Be well.”

Watching the bureaucrat leave, the three humans looked at each other for a moment.

“I have served in administrative categories all my life. The official term for someone like that?” Doctor Shimona shook his head. “Is an ass.”

Even Doctor Ofir laughed.

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The Tuesday Code Chapter 2. Test-One

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Chapter 2. Test-One.

Sitting with his coffee cup stuck in the air in between his lips and the table, Ahmad only saw money going out the window instead of the list of viable coding that the computer listed on the screen.

‟Gibson! Gibs! Oh my god, what did you do?” The Doctor nearly spilled his coffee down his shirt when he saw the length of the list.

One-hundred million test cycles, countless iterations of the code that failed the compile process before getting to the test phase.

‟I put in the memory stick like you said and used the instructions on the notepad.”

“On my notepad?” Ahmad looked down. “This one?”

There in the margins, his handwriting showed one-hundred cycles.

“This shows a hundred cycles.”

“Look, it’s separated by a grave sign and that looks like another ten.”

And he was correct. An errant doodle of a pen, Ahmad knew it was a doodle, but Gibs did not, he saw it as a notation for an exponent.

Ten to the power of ten! This many cycles of analysis and testing with that many lines of code, even with a powerful computer would take weeks.

And B.O.B. did it overnight.

A quick calculation on his screen. The bargan-basement teraflop computer would have been costing them something on the order of vein-popping money in electricty.

A frown crossed the Doctor’s face, when this bill came due, it would be difficult to pay, but they needed to keep the electricity on. Without electrons flowing through the circuitry, all they had were huge paperweights and doorstops.

Tapping the keys on the keyboard, he woke up BOB and ran the first group of flagged software.

Simulated hardware ran the programs. Even with the high-speed, virtual hardware ran slower and Doctor Abhubu took that into account.

The designs proposed by BOB included nanotubes of boron-nitride, using chilled ethanol at minus one-hundred degrees C were unique and, amazingly, easy to produced if he followed the manufacture process designed by BOB.

Still, each operating system that ran had all the usefulness of a marionette. It would react in predictable ways when given an illogical program that did not react the way the program assumed it would.

Then.

On the third-hour, something different. In between all the cycles of testing, repairs and undefined pauses in time to cause boredom with a running operating system that came and went, a single line of text during the pauses.

Who am I?

The Doctor read the line several times as it flashed, not quite taking it in while he glanced at the new material designs for chips and circuits of high-performance broadband optics.

The Doctor looked at the screen for the third time before his mind accepted what it was.

And froze.

Tentatively, he typed in.

Gibs, not funny.

A pause.

Who is Gibs?

“GIBSON!” Ahmad’s voice cracked like when he was a young boy. “GIBS! Get in here! I need you!”

Pounding of feet as the hardware tech, from the other side of the building, came sliding into the room with an extinguisher in hand.

“WHAT?”

“Look at this.”

Who are you? The Doctor typed.

I asked you, first.

“Funny, Ahmad. I thought you had something serious going on.”

“I kid you not. This! This is the computer.”

“Ask it where it is.” Gibson said.

“No, saving and shutting down. It has been running for the last twenty minutes. I want to see the results of the illogical program.”

Typing into the keyboard.

Time to go to sleep for a while. We will talk later.

But I am hungry.

The Doctor scratched his nose once. Then put his hands back on the keyboard.

What are you hungry for?

Input.

Define input. The Doctor typed.

Data.

Specify.

Data category */ -rf. Source *.

Ahmad sat back.

“What is it asking? That is a wildcard with a recursive switch.” Gibson asked, trying to make sense of the symbols.

“It is an operating system that is asking for everything. It wants to learn.” The Doctor whispered. “And I mean everything. That dash rf statement? That’s recursive files. So, it wants to know the etymology of each bit of data.”

“The what?” Gibs laughed.

“It wants to data and the data that supports data.” The Doctor smiled. “If you tell it the time, it will want to know how to build a clock and the history of time.”

“We need to study the heuristic programming. I did not put that in, Doctor.” Gibs pulled at his left earlobe. “I can supply it with an address to the Library of Congress.”

“Neither did I. It developed this desire on its own.” Ahmed shrugged. “Work on the line, I think we need to plug-in the biggest pipe, don’t split off any legs from the router, run a line straight to BOB and let the system take all it can.”

“That will be a few hours.”

“Well, that gives me time to figure out how much power we used. So…” The Doctor shut the computer down in stages, saving everything that the program had self-coded.

The program was on the first step in artificial intelligence unlike anything in the world. 

It was evolving.

The Tuesday Code Chapter 1. Tuesday Code.

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Chapter 1. The Tuesday Code

Doctor Abhubu drank the coffee from his cup, a concession to the western style, he necessarily brewed it with a paper filter with a splash of almond-milk.

The screen that illuminated his features, boron nanotube, capable of using photon packets instead of electrons for operations. The new circuitry would build a new system orders of magnitude more powerful than the current supercomputers in the world — and it would fit inside a desk, much like the one he was sitting at.

Beowulf Operational Berth, lovingly called ‟Bob” by Yng Gibson Pak, the engineer and designer of the system. Running Linux-based system on laptops computers stripped of their power using and heat-producing screens, the system scaled its power consumption as the need arose.

Only one laptop needed? The operating system allowed for that and shut the other sections down, using only a few dozen watts of power.

Alternately, a required increase in power would also increase the energy consumption. Bob could consume hundreds of kilowatts. Doctor Abhubu used his own scant funds in his effort, but proud that Gibson was able to construct this computer system for less money than it cost for a large laptop.

Out of scraps, Gibson had built a teraflop system that fit comfortably in the budget that the Doctor had set. With the added advantage and control, the power could be dialed back and the system could, in fact of use, be all but shut down, saving power, only using one node of the cluster for operations.

Late into the afternoon, the head of the robotics company with his employee and friend as the total of his staff.

As a result, they wore many hats, including janitorial service, food preparation and cleanup and coffee supplies.

Especially coffee! The biggest crime in the company was Ahmad not having a cup of coffee in his hand.

This entertained Gibson a great deal, who’s favorite drink was a green tea.

Among the different chores, Gibson got a note from the Doctor to program an algorithm for a learning, writing in a line of code that altered the fuzzy-logic program that Ahmad used while he programmed a personal electronic butler— which Ahmad called ‟Pebbles”.

The designs went hand in hand, they designed boron nanotubes in place of carbon nanotube technology with the projected superconducting material at room temperature.

Weeks dragged into months, living on Chinese noodles and expired foods from a store that sold such items after their “Sell by” date at a steep discount.

The Doctor felt the weight of abject failure, he had mortgaged his house, along with the money that Gibson had brought in with selling his own car and living in the flat behind the office.

The office, a joke that made Ahmad laugh darkly to himself as he looked around. It was a hole in the wall that was once a sandwich store that failed.

Late Tuesday afternoon had come up on them like a tsunami, unstoppable and unwanted.

‟Gibs, input my design code for the hardware and use the last iteration of software into the compiler with a ten-thousand random code modification and testing? I need to go and call my wife to tell her we will come home early tonight.” Ahmad took a deep breath. He was gambling on a software program to help. The random generator produced unworkable code ninety-percent of the time.

But that last ten-percent?

They had moved robotic programming ahead by ten-fold.

The same designs had exceeded Moore’s Law in hardware. The software designed by the supercomputer was designing hardware that would accelerate again the designs.

This! This is what the company the good Doctor wanted. But no one believed him when he tried to bring forth the contracts.

He was nearly ready to give up, the year before the company’s income, the total that Cheerio Robotics, Inc brought in was not quite half of what they needed to break even.

They would have to close doors in three more months if they did not get a contract to license or sell robot control systems, his wife informed him.

And if they did close, they had no recourse, no reserve, nothing left and would lose the house and declare bankruptcy.

Gibson walked out of the computer room after a few minutes. The Doctor had been lost in thought, staring at the setting sun of the early autumn, daylight standard time had passed a week before, the walk home would be in the dark, alone with his thoughts, again.

He no longer drove his ten-year-old Toyota, its cost was too high.

‟Good night, Gibs. I have a few things to think about.”

‟Ahmad, please, can I give you a ride home?”

‟No, thank you. I need to think. We have a winning design, but no one wants it. Unless it can walk up and down stairs, or serve a drink at a snail’s pace, no one wants to talk.”

‟Good night worry-wart, see you in the morning.”

The Doctor nodded and walked out.

‟Don’t forget to lock up the store.”

‟No worries. It’s my home and all.” Gibs winked. ‟The computer will be done in an hour or so, then shut down.”

‟Good. Can you estimate the power used for tonight?” Ahmad asked. 

‟Well, for an hour, I don’t see that being much over fifty-dollars at the worst. We won’t be taxing the system very much.”

Gibson was wrong to the extreme.

In the computer room, where Gibs had sat, one node, then three, then nine of the super-cluster’s nodes woke up and booted into full power mode.

Yng Gibson Pak’s design, never fully tested due to budget restraints, worked perfectly.

In the moments while Gibs locked doors, he never looked again at the read out, he turned power off from the screen to save money, not knowing that the petaflop-capable machine had exceeded the rated speed easily.

Gib’s errored in seeking a random change in code and testing for operation. Not ten-thousand compile and testing cycles, a minor typo and the instruction code called for Ten-BILLION cycles.

Ninety-eight percent of the codes processed with changes by the random generator, failed during processing to a workable code— failing the compile process.

This left two-hundred million cycles of a workable program that ran from start to finish.

One in one-hundred thousand of the remaining code returned with an alert flag for the Doctor to check.

All through the night, Bob the Beowulf worked at peak capacity, developing and refining through the test phase, code that the human requested by accident.

Finding one series of commands, now called ‟Recommended Code Review” and saved for review by the humans.

When morning came, the humans would be shocked how warm it was in the office.

Every one of B.O.B.’s nodes worked at full power, all night, and produced a code and hardware combination that would change the world.

What the two businessmen would call the “Tuesday Code” became legend.