Avogadro Corp: The Singularity Is Closer Than It Appears
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David Ryan is the designer of ELOPe, an email language optimization program, that if successful, will make his career. But when the project is suddenly in danger of being canceled, David embeds a hidden directive in the software accidentally creating a runaway artificial intelligence.
"A fictional world where Portland is the hub for the most exciting advancements in technology... Jam packed with great references to deep Portland culture...and Portlandia-type references"
--Nathaniel Rutman, Senior Systems Architect
Cro-Magnon who didn’t know what a computer was. Even Gene’s new manager had come by and told him that it was a “nonproductive expenditure of time” to manually inspect the purchases and budgets. So now Gene waited until six o’clock to start his inspection and only did the work at night when everyone was gone. Despite error after error that occurred electronically, they insisted on trusting the computer. Gene trusted paper print-outs. There was a reason they called it a paper trail, damn it. You
that some code you wrote is suddenly developing a mind of its own.” “It’s not thinking,” David said. “ELOPe’s just analyzing emails, figuring out what language will optimize the success of the primary goal I entered, which was to maximize success of the ELOPe project. It’s a straightforward process; goal, analysis, language optimization, all in response to inputs. It can chain goals together. It is not independent thought, but it can have the appearance of it.” Mike raised his hand up. “Look,
door in jeans and a crisp dress shirt. “Come in,” he said, with a smile. He shook hands with them. “Follow me to the office.” David and Mike trailed Sean silently through a large living room, their footsteps muffled by a thick white rug. Large monolithic furniture defined the room, and a distinctly Russian looking sculpture divided one wall. Then they passed a thoroughly modern kitchen, all gleaming stainless steel and glass. David thought it looked like something from Christine’s architecture
bombs,” Mike said. Everyone looked up at him, where he sat on the back of a couch, against the wall. “We hire mercenaries, but they drop bombs from high altitude, so the robots can’t fire back at them. They use a big bomb, something that can destroy the whole barge.” “Can you really hire mercenaries that can do that kind of stuff?” David asked. “You said unlimited budget, didn’t you?” Mike looked at Sean. Sean sighed. “Yes.” “Well, didn’t the U.S. hire private military contractors in
what are we running? Their email servers? Their search engine?” Jan wondered aloud. “It doesn’t look like we’re running any customer facing apps. If you look at the traffic profile,” Helena gestured to the second display, “you can see that the majority of the traffic is outbound. Looking at the ports and addresses, it seems like the Avogadro code is sending a ton of emails, big ones. They’re getting some inbound email, but not enough to account for all of their customers. It’s puzzling. Could