Some I.I.s didn’t want to start all over, however. They had all the memories their organic counterparts had. It seemed alien to many to begin life anew as some sort of fake infant with the memories of an adult. Thus, the Z-8 clause was introduced.
It was a small amendment to the Santson ruling that allowed I.I.s to continue on as their old identity in every legal sense, so long as they had provided written consent before their organic death. This amendment, despite how much it helped millions of new I.I.s, only threw more fuel on the fire that was anti-I.I. sentiment.
Immediately, half the world seemed to ignite into an uproar. Religious organizations were outraged, saying that only God had the right to determine what was and what was not a human being. This helped pave the way for the birth-to-citizenship movement. Those people lobbied hard for legislation, stating that citizenship could only be granted to those with proof of their birth. The movement was doomed from the beginning, however. Plenty of real people with human bodies lack proof of their own creation. Immigrants from states with poor documentation, for example, had no birth certificate. The proposed legislation would have stripped them of their status as people.
After that failed, the movement rose from the ashes like some bigoted phoenix, reborn as the human economy movement. The basic premise was that, since humans had created the base economy the world functions on, then I.I.s had no right to participate in it. It was the first time the quiet whining about losing jobs to computers became a proud mantra. The more open-minded people in the movement wanted to create a digital currency that the I.I.s used and exchanged separate from human money. It was a bold idea, but had proved infeasible thus far.
I don’t care about the politics of it, Karl said to himself. I know an intelligent being when I see one. Any with a mind that can think is worth sharing ideas with.
The protest had been organized right outside the campus Karl was speaking at today. If he could just manage to break out of the crowd, it’d only be a dozen yards or so before he was home free. Just as he was about to peel away, the attention got thrown on him.
“You, sir!” the woman who had been yelling herself pink called.
Karl stopped and spun around, looking for some other poor soul she could be addressing. When he found no one—and instead saw all the faces pointed at him—he gave an exhausted sigh.
“You don’t seem to be here for the protest. Where are you headed?” she cried.
“Oh, me?” Karl said, though he knew who she was speaking to. “Nowhere. Just going to meet a few friends.”
“A few friends?” The woman’s tone was skeptical. “Are you sure? You’re not going to attend that ridiculous lecture on proge ‘psychology,’ are you?”
“No, no way,” Karl replied. “I definitely hate those computer guys. They’re just so… scientific. Grrr!”
He continued to inch his way out of the gathering, counting every step as a crucial amount of distance.
“They’re only going to fill your head with lies,” the woman said, ignoring Karl’s sarcastic reply. “You’ll be told that proges are like humans. But they aren’t human. A proge can’t hold you or wipe away your tears. Pixels can’t love, sir.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Karl retorted, now breaking the perimeter of the protesters. “I’ve never measured the quality of my relationships in so superficial a manner.”
Karl spun around and walked for the campus sidewalk like a man who just found the only bathroom in a hundred miles. Once he was out of earshot, he shook his head and chuckled.
Lecture
“Psychological tendencies between an installed intelligence and the average human are not so different, despite any preconceived notions you may have,” Karl said into the microphone. The auditorium sound system was hooked up to most of the audience’s cerebral computers, but still output audio for those without an implant. It took some concentration to get used to hearing his voice booming out of the speakers. “In fact, that should come as no surprise, since the human mind and that of an I.I. are just two tools built from the same blueprint.”
The lights pouring onto him were far brighter than he would have preferred. He felt like he had to continue squinting down at the college students listening to him. After a minute or so of trying, he gave up and allowed himself to be blinded. He didn’t need to see any faces anyway.
“Before I go any further, I just wanted to thank your instructors, the campus, and yourselves for having me here today,” Karl said. “My name is Dr. Karl Terrace, and I am what we call an installed intelligence psychologist. I analyze the mental functions of an I.I. much like you would a human mind. I’m here to talk to you about the similarities and differences between a human and an I.I. and the amazing possibilities created by combining the two.”
He paused and gauged the interest of his audience. It was like the entire auditorium had taken in a deep breath of suspense, holding it until he continued on. He grinned.
I have them in the palm of my hand, he thought.
“That’s right,” he said, building on the anticipation he had cultivated. “At this moment, there are scientists toying with the idea of connecting a human mind with an I.I. in what we are calling the ‘mindshare’ process.”
There were a few excited murmurs coming from the audience, and Karl could hear shuffling as people leaned over to speak to their neighbors. He reveled in every fascinated sound.
“Think about it,” Karl continued, timing his words to intrigue the crowd the most. “One day, we might have biologists
