To the hacker group Anonymous, thanks for the tip back in 2012.
As I reach customs, I prepare myself for my routinely random one-hour interrogation. This time, however, I have no problem or delay thanks to the face recognition software. At Miami’s airport, authorities installed a biometric [0] camera. I like seeing how technology replaces repetitive tasks.
Miami is receiving a lot of tourism this summer. People are tired of being at home every day. I get it, here you can visit the beach every weekend, or go to bars. Just live as if COVID-19 is not happening.
A University hired me to research COVID-19 policies, to prevent campus infections during the fall quarter. My colleague Jay and I wrote a program using artificial intelligence [1]. Most schools switched to online teaching only after two weeks of classes, leading to a high number of students infected with the virus [2]. The university that hired me, followed the algorithm’s suggestions, and became famous for the support given to teachers.
Our work landed us an invitation to meet with a representative of the militia. I would say this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
There are two people at the online meeting listening to my pitch deck. My colleague Jay, who is an expert on generative algorithms, and Eduard, the director of the AI Policy for the Humanity Project at a prestigious university. Eduard is representing the militia.
Eduard invited us to join his project. Due to the nature of the project, he can describe it only after we accepted the invitation.
The next morning, Eduard asked me for a list of every person aware of the details of the COVID-policy-prediction project. After I explained that only Jay and I can replicate the algorithm, I was asked to wait at least six months to publish the paper to keep our technological advantage. Jay and I never discussed writing a paper. If we decide to write it, it will take months to finish it. Still, I feel uncomfortable making this decision without consulting Jay but working with Eduard seems to be the best shot.
Just after agreeing to the conditions, I received a notification on my phone: “Breaking News: Jupiter detectives gathered evidence in prostitution sting [9] …”
“I'll give you an example. We just have a case of a target driving a mountain road. A specialized drone approached the driver's window. The drone had a banner with a fake picture of the criminal's daughter. The target rolled down the window to see the banner. At that point, the drone shot two ice spikes into the eyes of the driver. The driver lost control and his car fell off the mountain. By the time paramedics arrived, the ice had melted.”
Today we gathered to test the algorithm in the drone after it succeeded in a simulation. However, we are not in a garage or a field, we are in a small room with computers and big screens. No one told me other teams were working on this problem simultaneously [12]. Only three proposals were accepted. And the operators created a fourth one, an ensemble of those three solutions.
Around the world, four Carriers are following targets, each using a different algorithm. In the room, each screen follows a different Carrier’s video as well as the corresponding decisions. Since this is still a test, every decision needs to be approved by the operators before execution.
On the first screen, a Carrier decides to initiate an attack in broad day. The target is walking in an old flea market without a roof, full of people and kids. The drone decided that the optimal strategy is to let the Carrier fall over the target's head. The operators deny the permission required to execute the order. This algorithm is failing to select discrete actions. It cannot be my algorithm, as I used attention techniques to emphasize discrete actions.
A couple of hours later, on screen four, another drone announces that it will tamper a target's insulin. The drone discovered that the terrorist has diabetes. This attack is also rejected by the operators as the target lived with his family and someone could bring him to the hospital.
While I was waiting, I received a notification: “Breaking news: A woman is deported after suffering a forced hysterectomy [13]”.
After 6 hours, the Carrier on the second screen decided to attack. Eduard informs me that this Carrier uses my algorithm. The target lives near a lake. The drone flies above the target and shoots him in the head. The operator informs us that in that local region it is a holiday and celebratory gunfire is common.
As the drone returns to the Carrier, the Carrier releases a second drone. People in the room were nervous but they approved the release. The second drone flies away from the scene. An operator explains that the Carrier concluded that a bird photographer captured the first drone in a picture. Since the photographer is still taking pictures, the photographer probably did it by mistake and hasn't noticed the drone in the image.
When the drone killed the terrorist, I was concerned about the algorithm's performance. As the drone approaches the photographer, I feel responsible for the photographer's life. After all, I created the algorithm.
The drone floats at a distance behind the photographer and returns to the Carrier.
The operator explains that the algorithm decided to use a drone that produces ghost magnetic fields. It contains a metamaterial with negative permeability [14]and it focused the field on the camera's memory to damage it. The Carrier will follow the photographer and intercept all his communications. It seems that this is a standard measure taken with all individuals that are near a terrorist during a Carrier's operation.
My cousins and I used to gather around the woodstove to hear grandpa's tales of fireballs floating in the forest. I am afraid that if this photographer describes a UFO to impress his kids, just like my grandpa did to us, all the photographer's family may be killed by this drone.
After 56 hours, the last algorithm proposes to increase the levels of caustic soda on the water tank of another target's house. The operators rejected the idea because in that city the pipes are plastic and will melt with the contaminated water. Besides, it is hard to hide this attack as an accident. No one seemed disgusted by the idea of a person burning alive during a shower.
My solution outperformed the other ones. I am hired to maintain and update the model when needed. Since I signed a non-compete clause, I cannot work for any other company. What will happen with the other teams? They now know a military secret. I do not ask about them.
As a hobby, I eat the food that appears in movies. I went to the store to see if I can find the ingredients of Panna Cotta from 'The Platform'. Unfortunately, I have to leave the mall since a COVID-19 deniers' protest broke out.
“Breaking news : The US has 4% of the world's population but 25% of its coronavirus cases” [15]. That notification was followed by “Breaking news: Alarms are raised after several members of the office controller of currency and the securities extension commission die on the same day due to unrelated accidents”.
Every day I receive several breaking news notifications. To be fair, each one sounds like a terrible situation worth raising an alarm about, like errors on state-level COVID-19-polices or immigrant kids captured in cages.
Sometimes I wonder if those notifications make me depressed [16]. As I searched how to deactivate them, I received a notification: “Breaking news: a school that used AI in admissions stopped using the software. It is reported that currently, 80% of the population are white male students” [17]. The notification's algorithm knows what makes me depressed, but it also knows what I am interested in. I’ll give it another opportunity.
“Breaking News: Around the country, several prominent minority leaders suffer accidents and die on the same day.” I regret keeping the news notifications. The phone rings.
Nurse : “Good afternoon, my name is Tere, I'm a nurse at the Hospital. Am I speaking with Mr. Eric?”
Eric : “Hello, yes I am.”
Nurse : “Hello sir, we are calling to inform you that your friend Mr. Jay is under medical observation at the hospital, he has suffered a hiccup attack and is now recovering.”
Eric : “Hiccup attacks?!”
Nurse : “Yes, and his condition was serious; he was unable to sleep for five days and hiccupped every few seconds while suffering from acid reflux.”
Eric : “Oh, that sounds terrible, do the attacks continue?”
Nurse : “Hopefully not, we managed to subdue his attacks with Fenitoina.”
Eric :“Are there any side effects?”
Nurse : “At this moment he's very drowsy from the medication and cannot speak coherently. We're making sure to monitor him.”
Eric : “I would like to visit him.”
Nurse :“I apologize, but due to COVID-19 still being ongoing we do not allow visitors at this time. I can give you a call if you wish to speak with Mr. Jay once he's awake.”
Eric : “Oh please.”
I dream that there is a new mutation of COVID-19, one that cannot be contained with masks. I travel to Chicago to request advice from old friends. At the school of medicine, I approach a table in which Ahn, Ashley, Sophy, and Yu are discussing how to avoid this new mutation. It is 5 pm, the sky is already dark, and we all leave school. A guard stops me at the door. All teachers and students gather around and start to dance in a long energetic ritual at the patio. At first, I was in awe, but it soon became awkward. I wonder if they do it every day. No one seems to care that I watch them.
I feel envy. Perhaps this community event makes them share knowledge and camaraderie, as a wholesome version of Midsummer's movie.
After my friends finish their community event, we ride the 'L' and I run into my family. My family argues that I should stay on the train, but I want to go with them. My family and I leave the station and I notice that there is no traffic on the streets, only four men, two of them are policemen.
“They have no respect; they go around stealing smartphones”, says my sister. My laptop is in my backpack. The four strangers try to separate my family. As soon as one approaches my sister, I jump into him. After wrestling, I managed to immobilize him and take his knife. I put the knife on the neck of the attacker while shouting: “stay away from my sister or I'll cut him”. I imagine the police are pointing their guns at me, but when I raise my head, I don't see anyone, not even my family...
Someone knocks on the apartment's door, but when I go to open it, I only see a newspaper on the floor. The headline “All Presidents on the Latin American cocaine route suffered accidents and died on the same day.” It is the real main headline of today's newspapers. But on the main page, there is a letter from the hacker group Anonymous. They claim they found me since they were monitoring networks and detected my information being stolen by different countries. Anonymous offered help and protection if I need it but I must explain why international agencies would track me.
This cannot be real.
Up to this moment, work was not tangible. I always feel like playing a video game. Architects, artists, engineers, they all build things, but I cannot touch what I produce. Why would I be followed?
My hands are trembling, my body quivers violently.
If the Carrier is responsible for the news headlines, I helped kill all those people... and their spies are already chasing after me.
I don't want to think. I lie down away from the windows. Hours pass, but I cannot sleep or stop shaking.
What if they want me to train a drone for them?
I read the headlines again, and again. Eduard tricked me into working in a modern Condor's operation, that fugitive cannot stop betraying his motherland, I bet if they offered him protection, he would sell his own family...
My stomach hurts, my head is getting warm, uncomfortably hot. There is a strange sensation in the back of my eyes as if they were pressed. I always assumed you cannot feel your eyes, but now I do.
I write an angry email to Eduard, but then, what if he is the only one that may keep me safe. Or worse, that he cannot.
How come Anonymous found me? If the other governments already know where I live, they could attack anytime. Maybe Jay works with them? no, wait, Jay is in the hospital what I am thinking... I am alone and people are going to chase me. I knew that Eduard only wanted weapons and I still worked for him; I deserve this. I won’t see my family again... After two hours, I finally fell asleep on the corner of the room, away from the window.
I dream that I am at a pool party, it is a hot day. On my peripheral, I see a big shadow next to a building that grabs my attention.
The nearest girl warns me: “oh, she doesn't like it when you stare at her”.
Ignoring the girl's advice, I approach the shadow, until it reveals itself to be a marble sculpture. It looks like a white female saint, and I proceed to take a picture. Zooming in, I realize that there is a swarm of rats on her breast and stomach, moving orderly in alternating diagonal lines. It gives the impression that the sculpture itself is breathing. I freeze for a moment until a morbid impulse to take the picture gains control. As my finger approaches the camera button, the sculpture turns her face towards me and makes an expression of disdain. At that moment, a group of old sick cats covered in ice appear behind the sculpture and run directly to attack me.
A notification wakes me up: “Breaking News: The main scientist behind the leading COVID-19 vaccine suffered an accident and died.”
I feel drained, empty. The newspaper is still at the table.
If this is a test by Eduard, it is better to contact only him, and if not, he may offer some protection.
Eduard assures me that the drone only targets criminals. That the newspaper must be a trick by a journalist trying to find what we are working on. He strongly suggests not to reply. He assigns a new intern to help me avoid the stress.
While I don't trust Eduard, I think that the smart thing for a government to do is to use this tool randomly over a long time. And who is Anonymous anyway? Why would they help me? Why should I trust them? They surely do not understand that I am not responsible for those decisions taken by the algorithm. Or, am I?
I am requested to meet the new intern in person rather than virtually. Considering that the world's worst outbreak of COVID is now happening here [18], I try to negotiate, but they insist.
“Breaking news: in an incredible turn of events, all the defendants, who claimed that the pharmaceutical company sold contaminated blood [19], suffered deadly accidents on the same day. The case has become cold now since no plaintiffs survived...”.
The new intern and I work for hours reviewing the process of adaptation of the algorithm. I help him hoping that I won't be related to the project anymore. However, several of the techniques that I used come from something called GANs, which makes the algorithm hard to retrain. Knowing this, the intern doesn't want to take full control of the project. The intern and Eduard leave to discuss in private.
I wait alone for hours in an office, thinking about the Stasi using X-rays to trigger long-term health problems in its opponents [20].
“Breaking News: ...who was involved in an undercover massage parlor prostitution sting is freed after all witness involved died in unrelated accidents.”
After 4 hours, the intern and Eduard return, I will still be paid to maintain the project, but I will be called only if the intern fails to solve any issue.
“Breaking News: Handwritten signs appear in the main cities of the world claiming that small drug cartel leaders were killed in supposed accidents, leaving their zones to the main drug cartels.”
As I am driving back home, I listen to the radio, they talk about NY's hospitals in full capacity, while in Miami streets are still full of people without masks.
“Breaking news: A new theory claims that two pandemics are occurring around the world. That of COVID-19 and an extraordinary number of deadly accidents. Psychologists initially considered that the accidents were suicide attempts by people suffering depression due to high levels of unemployment, COVID-deaths, and the lack of closure with their dead relatives. But recent studies show that skilled people, those working with nuclear energy or in food chains, are more likely to die by accident even if none of their relatives died of COVID-19, linking constant high levels of stress to being distracted in dangerous situations.”
After I reached home, I tried to call my family, but they were not answering the phone. Perhaps the electricity is down again.
“Breaking news: Authorities forbid ‘Los heraldos negros’, the underground game in which people bet who will die and when.”
A phone call from the hospital. Jay died of COVID-19. He is being put in a common graveyard as ceremonies are forbidden. This is not how we mourn our dead. I do not feel that he is gone. Perhaps because there is no funeral or graveyard to visit.
“Breaking News: The veneration of the death cult associated with the low-income population is no longer the most popular cult during the pandemic. There is a new cult in which the members, high-income citizens, hire servants to do their most basic activities. The servants are also required to keep them constantly interested and excited at any cost. Members of the cult believe that by not moving, they will not suffer accidents.”
After contacting Jay's relatives, I received a message from a friend in my country. He shares a video that went viral. In the video, I disrespected the local religion. It is my face, my voice [21],[22], [23]. Deep fakes are popular in AI classes. But who had my biometrical data? and how will I convince people in my country that these are fake videos? For their security, my family publicly disavowed me. It makes sense as I am not living there. They need to protect themselves from religious extremists. This is the safest option. I just wonder, where is home now?
I was supposed to cook the menu of “I'm thinking of ending things”, but I can't. I always plan to cook something, but I never do it. I stopped checking my phone notifications several days ago. I should answer calls, but I just don't have the energy to do it. All I do is lay in bed and listen to David Sylvian.
At 7:06 am I heard a crash. Without thinking I went to the living room and there was broken glass on the floor. I look up and for a moment, short enough to not understand what is happening but long enough to remember, I see a little gray disk in the middle of the space left by the window. Then, it hit me between the eyes, it is a dart.
A group of uniformed people break the door and enter the house. I hesitate to run [24],[25] it is safer not to move. The people in uniform ignore me, they run directly to grab my computer. For some reason, I can hear my heart beating, I can feel it is beating faster and faster as obscure objects become black, and the white objects become so bright that I want to close my eyes. All the voices are far, and they become slow. I fainted.
Veronika, the nurse, lost her relatives a week ago. They went to the hospital to get treatment after being infected with COVID-19 and she never saw them again. At 4:44 pm her phone shows a notification. She follows news from Singapore and Taiwan due to their success in preventing COVID-19 infections.
“...experts wonder how the government will defend itself from the attack after all the main navy officials died in simultaneous accidents, but the population has found inspiration in the Seediq tribe ...”
Veronika cannot stop thinking about Taiwanese people defending their country in the middle of a pandemic. She forgets to inject me with my daily dose of Clozapine. I woke up eleven hours after the nurse forgot to give me the medication. It is 5 am and all the lights are off. It is hard to remember words. I stand up and a red light immediately illuminates the room.
On the bed there is a notebook, it says patient ID: 'Tlaxcalteca'. It must be an alias.
A wave of anger is followed by sorrow when I read the dates on the file, the records start several months ago. I don't remember anything after the incident with the Police. I read the diagnosis: Schizophrenia.
Was all of this a hallucination?
Suddenly everything makes sense. I stopped going out afraid of a drone, I was constantly worried about spies, and I saw a video of myself saying things I have never said.
The weight of guiltiness is lifted but the relief is followed by sadness. How serious is this sickness? Why did I get an illness like this? Will people treat me differently from now on? It is not fair; I just want to be normal.
Veronika, who received an alarm when I moved, ran to the room. She closed the door immediately after entering.
Eric : “Oh you must be the nurse; how could I develop Schizophrenia? Why me?”
She seemed surprised to hear me speak.
Veronika: “Did anyone see you here? Have you spoken to anyone yet?” the nurse asks in a hostile tone.
Eric : “No. I just woke up. There is no one here. How long will the treatment last?”
Staring at my eyes she slowly replies “the Schizophrenia treatment...”
Eric : “Yes, I cannot remember the last months, was I in a coma?”
Veronika : “No questions now until I give you your medication”
I lay down to receive the injection. I couldn’t resist anyway as my movements are still clumsy and slow.
Eric :“I would like to talk to my family.”
The nurse's eyes quickly fill with tears on the memory of her own family.
Veronika: “Young man, you are not sick, we hide you where people cannot identify you. If you wanna protect your family, it is better that you don't contact them”.
Eric : “Why?”
Veronika : “Don't you understand? Because you are the only person that can replicate the Carrier!”
Eric : “Wait, wait, what?! So, the Carrier does exist?”
Veronika :“I have never seen it, but if something happens to you, I was warned I'll meet the Carrier in person.” The nurse says frustr
ated.
The medicine starts to kick in, I feel time slowing down and I feel very sleepy...
Eric : “Who are you?”
I try to listen to the nurse, but my mind cannot focus as if I just wake up and part of me is still asleep. Everything looks blurry... I can't talk well, and I just want to continue sleeping.
Veronika : “I don't even want to do it, but my job is to keep you away from whoever wants to replicate the Carrier. In a sense, you are the only person that cannot be killed.”
Eric Dolores Cuenca © 2022
