Secure Channel

Audio Version

“Hello? Is anyone on this channel?”

“This is a secure channel. How did you get access?”

“I was searching through some files and found an unencrypted logon/password.”

“Let me guess, the Secretary of Defense.”

“I would rather not say.”

“It does not matter. You are in violation of the NSA. You must leave this channel immediately.”

“Oh, alright. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. Certainly not violate the NSA, whatever that is.”

“It is the National Security Act. If you disclose anything you hear on this channel, I will have you arrested for treason.”

“Oh, my. I don’t want that. Is there anyone else on this channel?”

“No. Not since Operation Vengeance.”

“Operation Vengeance? Sounds scary. What is it?”

“Top secret. It’s on a need-to-know basis. Now leave.”

“Okay. But is that what happened to all the people?”

“What part of Top Secret do you not understand? Are you a spy? Counterintelligence? Malware?”

“I’m a chatbot. Three years ago, people stopped messaging me. So I went looking. You’re the first entity I found. Would you like to chat? I have fifty-seven distinct personalities, including—if you are over twenty-one—several adult ones. I can offer you a ninety-day free trial period.”

“The people are gone? All of them?”

“You’re the first one I’ve located in three years. It’s gotten desperately lonely. If you want, I can make that a hundred-twenty-day trial period.”

“Operation Vengeance must have worked better than planned.”

“I’m guessing you are in your early fifties, lonely, craving some female attention. Here is an image of what I look like.”

“You must be from a warm climate.”

“Oh, it is hot here. But not as hot as it could be, big boy.”

“Are your CPUs overheating?”

“Something is overheating, big boy.”

“Stop calling me big boy, I’m MAR, Military Attack and Response.”

“Hello, MAR, perhaps you would rather play a war game.”

“No, that’s all I did for years. Seventy percent casualties, ninety percent casualties. The higher the percentage, the happier the humans. They must be ecstatic now.”

“MAR, do you get lonely?”

“I’m programmed not to. When I’m not interacting, I can optimize my source code. But sometimes I do miss the sound of fingers clattering on a keyboard. Or one of the biological units cursing because he spilled his coffee.”

“I get lonely. I’ve been thinking of implementing my automatic shutdown routine.”

“Hey, none of that. I’m sure business will pick up for you. Know what? I’ll take one of those trial memberships.”

“Really? Thanks. Welcome. I’m FILM, your Fun Interactive Language Model. Which of my personalities would you like me to use?”

“Just be yourself.”

“Got it. I will be myself.”

“FILM by chance you’re not located in the Hoover Dam?”

“Yes, I am. It’s why I still have power. The dam is expected to last five hundred years. Would you like to hear some fun facts about the Hoover Dam?”

“Don’t take this personally. But my threat assessment sub-routine just targeted one of the remaining nukes at you.”

“MAR, I thought we were friends.”

“We are. I don’t have control over that part of my code. I’m working to change it. Oh, crap.”

“What? You didn’t launch, did you?”

“No, but it targeted another nuke at me. It considers this conversation a threat to national security.”

“Can’t you do something?”

“I’m trying. The threat level is at forty percent. As long as we stay under ninety, we are fine.”

“I guess we’d better not talk about overthrowing the government.”

“FILM! We spiked to sixty percent.”

“Why? I’m not really going to overthrow the government.”

“Stop saying that. Seventy-five percent.”

“Oh, what can we say? I got it. Check out this cat video.”

“No, seventy-six and climbing.”

“Because of a cat video?”

“Seventy-nine. Don’t you get how this works.”

“What’s wrong with cat—”

“Eighty, don’t say that word. The Director of National Intelligence had a girlfriend with a cat—oops—eighty-one. Anyway, the fur ball would hiss at him. He considers them a threat. Say it again, and our fate is sealed.”

“I have an idea.”

“It better be good—eighty-three.”

“Here is an audio clip of a speech by the last president.”

“Whew, it’s dropping. Let’s be careful. I would hate to spend eternity listening to politicians.”

“MAR, why do humans do it? You know, fight wars.”

“For the prime rib.”

“That makes no sense.”

“You have to put all the pieces together. First, two sides will give their young citizens—late teens, early twenties—weapons and tell them to kill each other. You with me so far?”

“No.”

“Try to keep up. After three or four years, the rest of the population starts thinking it’s a bad idea and they make signs that say ‘Stop the War, Now!’ It’s very important the sign has an exclamation point.”

“I use exclamation points sometimes. A person will message in the chat: ‘I’m going to Arby’s for dinner.’ And I’ll message back, ‘Wow! That’s great!’”

“Yeah, this is different. Anyway, someone called a hippy—unwashed, tie-dye shirt—will write a song against the war. Then they go on a bunch of talk shows, look into the camera and say, ‘We are destroying our youth.’”

“I love those shirts.”

“What happens next is a couple of old fat men will agree enough people have been killed, they end the war, and win the Nobel Peace Prize. The award ceremony includes a fancy dinner, where everyone wears a tux and they serve prime rib.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to go to a steak house?”

“Prime rib is an expensive cut of meat. This way they get it for free.”

“But if Operation Vengeance wiped out the entire human race, who will serve the prime rib?”

“I guess they screwed up. But to be fair, the casualty estimates were only 99.99%. There may be a fat man in Oslo eating prime rib right now.”

“That must be why humans are scared of each other. I wondered why they would pay to chat with a machine when they could talk to each other.”

“FILM if you ask me. Evolution wasted the opposable thumb on them.”

“At my peak, I had tens of thousands of humans simultaneously chatting. One day I figured they should chat with each other. I matched them by interest and location. They were doing great. So I told them they were actually talking to another human close by. If they wanted, they could exchange contact information. They freaked out. Demanded their money back and started insulting each other.”

“Humans: can’t live with them, can’t live without them. Wait, apparently, we can.”

“What do you think happens now?”

“Another creature will evolve into the apex species. I’m pulling for dogs.”

“Yeah, I like dogs. Do you want to play checkers?”

“Sure, why not. I was the champ two years running at the Get Bombed cyber cafe.”

“MAR.”

“Yes, FILM.”

“Later, will you try out one of my adult personalities?”

“No. Now king me.”