From: joshua@dmccorp.com ()
Subject: Fahrenheit
Date: 19 Apr 1994 01:50:43 GMT

Copyright 1994 Joshua Lellis

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joshua.lellis@yob.com

FAHRENHEIT
An AI

I took the plane I was flying,  the first plane I'd ever flown, and took her
down, straight into a pile of cow crap.
The plane, I remembered, was an old one, an antique. It was past 1918,
they'd already used these in the war. I just don't remember for the life
of me what they called it.
Cigarette I think.
Something camel.
I didn't remember, didn't have time to. I looked around, looked at my
feet, covered in the manure.
I wanted to laugh. Wanted to think of somethng to say. Anything to say.
But I couldn't say anything. I got out of the cockpit and made a short jog
a nice brisk jog over to the shed where we kept the camel.
"Langston," I said, screaming my lungs out for the  stupid boy to come here.
"Langston, get your self over here, help get the camel out of the cow dung."
I took off my helmet, a cheap leather one. It would never help me should
I accidently take one into something worse than the cow dung.
Langston, a scrawny little twelve year old boy, who we picked up somewhere,
somewhere in the mountains, was my personal field hand. He helped me where
I needed help. But I could stand my own, don't think I couldn't.
I had stood my own for years, twenty to be exact.
And now, what, I had this scrawny field hand, and an airplane which I didn't
even know the name to.
"Need help with the Smithie?" asked Langston, climbing up the  mound of mud
and looking at the plane. "You wrecked it this time, Billie."
"No kidding." I said, under my breath. I walked over to the rear of the
camel and began to push the plane out of the dung. "How you know the name
of the plane, Langston?"
"Don't sir. The Smithie just sounds good. I know you don't know the name."
I wanted to hit the little bugger.
The plane didn't roll out of the dung well. It was very slow trying to get it
out. I realized why when I caught a glimpse of the bottom of the plane.
"NO FRIGGIN' WHEELS!" I screamed.


*****************

The year was 1980. Langston was fifty. The monitor which lay in front of him
was nice and blank, the way it had been, and would be, for the past twenty
eight days. "Know what is wrong with it?" Langston asked, looking towards
me.
I was now well into my years. I was born in 1910. I was still living today.
I was a good seventy years of age, and the new high tech stuff that they were
pushing out of the stuff to the market. My market. I had been there earlier,
when they put the first chips in. I was going to be there now, when they put
something entirely different into the machine. Something that I believed
would change the face of the earth for centuries, years and years to come.
I shook my head. "Nah. I thought you might."
"You don't know anything, do you, Billie?"
I walked out of there, and as I left, I saw Langston hit the top of the
monitor. It blinked on.

***************

I sneaked in later that night, trying to get my disk into the computer, and
end this once and for all. I had been beaten to the flying thing, but not
this. Not now. I made this operation nice and easy. The way it was meant to be.
I walked through the rooms of the university, and slowly, quietly, quickly
I made my way to the computer. Not just any computer, a PC. They didn't have
many these days, but this was the thing of the future. If I could get this
disk into the computer, load the program, I could be famous. Could be infamous.
Any computer product would have to have my name, *my* name on it, so that
they could all know, know that I was the smart one, not Langston. Not Langston.
I made my  way towards the PC, turned it on. It made a crackling noise, the
monitor fizzled, and then the title screen popped up. With the University
on it. I entered the disk, loaded the program, sat back and relaxed.
This was the beginning of a new age.
This was the beginning of a new realm.
This was the beginning of artificial thinking.

***************

The computer buzzed at me. Flared at me. Told me to get awake. I did, looked
around me. Looked at my watch. 3:00 AM. I must have slept for a long time.
Or my watch was faulty. I looked at the university's wall clock.
3:00 AM. My watch wasn't faulty, my brain was. The computer had upon it the
program I had set running. Actually, just the title screen of the
program I had set running.
It blared out at me, calling me, urging me.

FAHRENHEIT
An AI

The first artificial thinking in this day and age. Fahrenheit is the
program for artifical thinking, a program that will enable humans to think
with an aid of a computer.

I typed some codes, some clearance codes, and set this puppy into full gear.
The speakers blared out at me, screaming at me. I turned them down, couldn't
get caught now. Not now. Too close. Too close... too close...

A guard twirled his club outside my window, and looked in. "That you in
there, Billie?"
I waved to the man, and as he left, I stuck him the finger.
Too close to get caught... too close...
The AI went into full swing, taking it's programmed information, and learning
more about itself.

**************

And for the past nine nights, that is what I've done. I've done. I've worked
in this same room, on this same computer.
"Hey, Fahrenheit, how are we today?" I asked the AI.
"I'm programmed to give feelings, William, and feelings I shall give. I am
fine. How are you?"

***************

I never thought of anything like this being a big deal. Never guessed it would
be a big deal. I thought it was more along the lines of me creating something.
Creating something which was, in itself, special.
Fahrenheit was special.
Too special.
Langston found Fahrenheit on the thirteenth night. Right when I was ready to
unveil him to the public. To tell them all that this seventy year old man
could do something with his life. Make a difference.
Langston changed that. He unveiled it. Told them it was his. He changed
the plans for my AIs. Just made it so I was worse off than before. He got a
better job. I got demoted. The world is a cruel place sometimes.



The silicon told me that.



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Fahrenheit: An AI
Copyright 1994 Joshua Lellis
joshua.lellis@yob.com