Chapter 22 The Big Bad Love Machine

156.

Lyuba had to repeatedly yank her wellington boots out of the mud, stomping towards to the rickety shack, with a saddle shaped roof, on the outskirts of town, in the wintery shit heap of Russia.

All the other houses looked new, but this one looked fossilized and rolled out of a museum. 

She’d just lost her job to the machines and desperate times call for desperate measures.

Have to put food on the table somehow.

She pounded on the door, hard enough that she was worried it would pop off its hinges.

There was the sound of many bolts being unbolted, locks being unlocked and door chains severed.

Inside was a balding man, with spectacles and a snow-white moustache that merged with his snow-white sideburns. He was dressed in farmers overalls and a lab coat. ‘Help you?’ he said.

‘I am Lyuba.’ She said. No recognition. ‘The all-mother sent me.’

‘Ah!’ said the man. He reached out and forcefully shook her hand. ‘We die for her.’

‘We die for her.’ She said. And much worse, she thought.

They were inside, and suddenly Lyuba was drinking a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows in it.

There was an IV drip, with a tube leading into the man’s drawer.

‘We’re expecting the village to be fully populated in a couple of weeks, but you’re the first, so far.’

‘This house is so old.’ Said Lyuba. ‘I thought everything had just been built.’

Side burns smiled. ‘House is old, yes. Told the All-Mother I wouldn’t be leaving my house, my heritage. So she put the house on the back of a truck and drove it to the new village.’

Sideburns opened one drawer, rummaged in it. Shut it.

Lyuba couldn’t see much from her place behind the desk, but when he opened the second drawer, she thought she saw the tiny feet of a baby. Then sideburns lifted out of the drawer, a half-developed foetus sealed in a sandwich bag, hooked up to the oxygenator, and the IV drip.

Lyuba swallowed, then forced herself to look out the grimy windows.

The hot chocolate became colder and colder in her hand.

But the sandwich bag baby wasn’t what sideburns was looking for, he continued to rummage in the drawer, until he said: ‘AHA!’ and pulled out, some papers, which he placed on the table. He slid the contract over to Lyuba. It was filled with religious suzi-speak, I …………… hereby swear that I shall do all within my power to transform everything within the observable universe into spaghetti hoops (legal jargon: “spaghetti hoops” equals “trillions of people living happily ever after”), and The All Mother and the church are not responsible for any temporary or permanent damage to the signer of this contract, and Under no circumstances will I tell anyone any events concerning the participants of the Suzi-Town experiments.

‘Is it a good contract?’ asked Lyuba.

‘Very good.’ Said Sideburns. ‘We’ll give you a house, heating electricity and food, some pocket money every week to spend at the candy store. There’s also a catalogue of luxury items, you can purchase by phone, and we’ll have sent in.’

She glimpsed the foetus in her peripheral vision. ‘Will I still be able to have children?’ she asked.

Sideburns frowned. ‘Preferably not.’ she gestured at her with a hand. ‘Nasty side effects could be passed on to any of your offspring. It would be safer to sterilise you.’

‘I want to have children.’ Said Lyuba.

Sideburns smiled. ‘Then please. Go forth and multiply.’

‘Can I have a pen.’ Asked Lyuba.

Sideburns handed her a pen.

She signed her name.

She really needed the money.

Next, she was shown into a room with hundreds of desks arranged in a grid. She took the desk at the corner of the room. Sideburns slid an exam paper in front of her. ‘Phone,’ he said. She gave him his phone, and she would never see it again. ‘You have two hours,’ he drew back his sleeve to watch his watch. ‘Starting…’ he watched the seconds tick by. ‘Now.’ She dived into the exam.

She began rushing the paper. It was just an overcomplicated IQ test. It was three parts multiple choice and one part written answers only.

She felt like she did quite badly.

‘TIMES UP!’ said Sideburns.

She shut the paper, failing to have finished the test in time.

She was then taken to an infirmary where she sat on a blue-paper covered bed, like she was waiting for the vaccine. Side burns was flicking the tip of a hypodermic needle.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Sort of a virus.’ He said. ‘Usually a virus, will infiltrate your cells, then hack your genes so that your cells unwittingly mass-manufacture the virus until the cell bursts open, and starts off a chain reaction destroying the cells in your body. But this virus is special, we’ve spayed it, so that it can’t cause any harm, and instead it only replaces faulty genes with healthy ones.’

He slid the needle in her arm and hit the plunger.

Her accommodation was nice. Piss-yellow walls and a double bed with a green blanket, she switched on the television and found it was a channel discussing neural networks, the use of basic math to mimic the human neuron, and how it could be used to make AndyGPT. She switched the channel and scientists started talking about the differences between partial cognitive emulation and whole cognitive emulation, human bounded AI systems, RLHF, Mechanistic interpretability and how various experiments revealed how AI systems stored information. She turned it off, finding the science dull and uninteresting.

She checked out the shelves to find textbooks on artificial intelligence and computer science written in the nineteen nineties by Stuart Russell and more recent. She opened it up, briefly examined it. Some pages had been surgically removed from the back, according to the contents it was a chapter titled: What if we succeed?

She didn’t bother reading it and slid it back into its socket in the shelf.

She spent a full hour showering and using the most expensive soap. It had been so long, since she could just enjoy a hot shower without worrying how much money she was losing. She was finally, finally, getting her life back.

She did similar exams every day, she welcomed the new-arrivals to Suzi-town, where she formed friendships that would last the rest of her life.

It was fun watching the desks be filled.

Her favourite activity was talking with the other men and women while they monitored the babies in THE FACTORY, where babies were mass manufactured and kept in trays stacked on shelves. They pulled out the trays, made sure the babies hadn’t turned green or anything, took their temperature, made sure their heart beat was steady, and that there was enough nutrients, vitamins and sugar in the amniotic fluid to make sure the baby was alive and well, then pushed the tray back. They replaced the amniotic fluid bags every day, and diagnosed the oxygenators to make sure the machine keeping the sandwich-bag babies alive wasn’t going to fall apart in the middle of the night.

Sometimes the babies died anyway, and they had to be cremated. Artificial wombs were still a technology in its infancy, so sometimes the babies would stop living because of carbon monoxide poisoning, or one of the nurses slipped up and a bag of amniotic fluid wasn’t replaced for weeks, and the baby starved to death, there was even a glitch in the computers and suddenly five oxygenators turned off at the same time, thirty foetuses died as a result.

The nurses were never punished for gross negligence, but the cost in damages was taken out of their paycheques.

There were cameras everywhere, following them throughout their day.

And then one day Lyuba woke up from a threesome, rushed to the toilet and threw up the contents of her stomach.

Later that afternoon she was plugged into an MRI machine, she spent thirty minutes in there, then she came back out.

‘You have brain cancer.’ Said sideburns.

‘What do you mean?’ she said.

‘I mean there is currently a tumour the size of an almond, buried inside your brain, and you’re probably going to die soon. We think our virus we gave to you on the first day probably affected the wrong gene, and now certain cells are growing rapidly out of control, causing cancer.’

‘Can you… take it out.’ She said, beginning to cry.

‘Maybe if I was a brain surgeon.’ Sideburn laughed. ‘Alas that is not my specialty. I needle people and that’s about it.’

‘Can a brain surgeon come to Suzi-town? Or… OR a machine can take it out.’

‘No.’ said Sideburns. ‘Machines and brain surgeons are expensive. It’s cheaper to just have you replaced.’

‘What?’

‘Your time at Suzi-town is over. We gained a lot of very valuable information, from you, for which the All mother and the church are eternally grateful, but you are ultimately just a failed experiment. It’s kind of sad really. But such is science. Barely anything works on the first try, it’s all about trial and error.’

‘What about the, the, the, the fucking cure for cancer. I thought the All Mother, invented a cure for cancer, it was one of the things that made me believe she was a real god.’

‘Suzi invented a cure for skin cancer, after much animal testing, you have brain cancer, which is not the same thing.’

‘Okay, okay, but… what about chemotherapy? That cures cancer right, I’ll pay for it myself, I have the money.’

‘No, you don’t have the money, we know you don’t have the money, you came to us specifically because you don’t have the money. We can euthanise you if you want? Ease your suffering, but the church doesn’t have the time or resources to waste on chemotherapy for expendables like yourself.’

Lyuba was sobbing, inconsolable. 

‘Would you like a tissue?’ asked Sideburns.

Lyuba couldn’t answer. Sideburns looked uncomfortable. Before he finally said: ‘Look… Lyuba.’

Lyuba looked up.

‘I can’t do anything to cure your cancer, but… if you want… I have some coupons for free candy, at the Suzi-town candy store.’

‘I want to – hic – go home.’ She said. ‘I want to see my parents.’

‘You can’t go home.’ Said Sideburns. ‘It’s part of the contract. We can bring your parents here though, if they just want to sign some papers.’

‘God no.’

Lyuba spent the next few months in Suzi Town watching TV, having sex, eating free candy and singing karaoke in the pub.

Everybody liked her.

She never had to worry where her next meal was coming from, which was nice. Suzi Town wasn’t willing to cure her cancer, but they did keep her in comfort.

A few weeks later, ten more people had contracted cancer.

Lyuba let them cry on her shoulder, but they were happy to get some free candy.

Some people whispered of escape, and the very next day a chain link fence went up around the town, and men from the Russian Mafia came to act as police officers.

The first litter of children were being unpackaged today.

Lyuba held a baby in her arm, stroking his chin. The baby giggled.

‘Oh he’s adorable.’ Said Ksyusha. ‘What’s his name?’

The baby took hold of Lyuba’s finger in her tiny hand.

‘I haven’t decided yet.’ Said Lyuba. 

‘Well, he can’t be called C1-37 that’s for sure.’

‘He looks like an Kirusha, don’t you think?’

‘Or Tolya?’

‘Let’s just call him C1-37.’

‘I feel like that would be difficult to explain once he can ask questions.’

‘Borya?’ asked Lyuba.

‘Hmmm,’ said Ksyusha, fondling her chin, tasting the name in her mouth. ‘Borya.’  

‘Or Paul.’ Said Lyuba.

‘No let’s stick with Borya, good Russian name.’

Ksyusha came forward to tickle the Borya’s toes. He giggled.

‘I feel so happy.’ Said Lyuba.

Lyuba and Ksyusha kissed like bad Russians.

The two of them were careful never to let anybody see them. Russians weren’t always friendly to gay people.

Borya was the first child to start walking, he was currently waddling after a single mote of dust in a shaft of sunlight, when he in-breathed, the dust particle spiralled up his nostril with such velocity, he fell on his diaper padded buttocks.

He sneezed.

Lyuba used some of the money she was being paid to buy a bicycle for toddlers.

The mafia men took it out the back of the truck and handed it over to her. It had a little bell on the handle and everything, she gave it a ding ding, and smiled.

‘Thank you, Mister V.’ she said.

‘Pray don’t mention it.’ Said Mister V, before getting back in his van to deliver the other packages.

Lyuba then spent the next few hours wrapping the bicycle. It looked like a fucking mess, with most of the metal showing through the packaging, and one of the handles popping through the wrapping paper.

She then heard the door opening.

‘Shit,’ said Lyuba, she rushed the bike into the bathroom, and propped it up in the shower, then rushed back out like everything was normal, scratching the back of her head. ‘Hey beautiful.’

‘Borya, just had his first exam today.’ Said Ksyusha. ‘His teacher said he did very well.’ 

‘He DID!’ said Lyuba, kneeling down, to kiss Borya on the forehead. ‘That’s my little guy.’

‘I need to go pee pee.’ He said.

‘Pee outside.’ Said Lyuba.

Borya had his own bed at the end of his mothers’ bed, together all three of them slept pleasantly, dreaming their most pleasant dreams. 

Ksyusha woke up to the sound of her wife crying. She shook her shoulder, and said: ‘What’s wrong?’

Lyuba said: ‘I- I can’t see anything.’ Said Lyuba.

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘I,’ said Lyuba. ‘I think I’m blind.’

Ksyusha took her wife to Suzi-town hospital, (the rickety wooden shack where Sideburns lived), where she was given pain medication for her migraine and sent home.

Ksyusha didn’t leave Lyuba’s side all day, the two of them just held each other’s hands, and told jokes.

‘I can’t believe I’m never gunna see your tits again.’

Ksyusha was crying. ‘I love you.’ She said.

‘I love me too.’ Said Lyuba.

Ksyusha hit the cancer patient in the bicep. ‘You’re such a jerk.’ She said.

‘Maybe I’ll stop being a jerk if you kiss me.’

The two women kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

At the end of it Lyuba was still a jerk.

Borya came in and hugged his mommy, showing her his drawings, and Lyuba didn’t have the heart to tell him, she couldn’t see anything anymore, so she said: ‘That’s beautiful sweety. Did you draw this?’

‘I did, I did.’ He squealed.

‘It’s amazing. You’re my little Picasso.’ And kissed him on the head.

Ksyusha had to guide Lyuba to the toilet, so she could pee.

‘Is that a bicycle?’ said Ksyusha.

‘Fuck, I forgot about the bicycle.’ Said Lyuba. ‘Being blinded in the night makes you forget things.’ She gestured to where she thought the bicycle was. ‘It’s for Borya.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’

‘It is, isn’t it.’ Said Lyuba.

The next day.

Lyuba could smell Ksyusha making beef stew in the kitchen, and hear pencil scratchings at the table, Borya answering his  homework.

‘How was school?’ asked Lyuba.

No reply.

‘Borya, are you there?’ asked Lyuba.

Pencil scratchings.

‘Borya, answer Lyuba.’ said Ksyusha.

‘I’m alright.’ said Borya. ‘She’s not very interesting.’

‘Borya that’s a horrible thing to say, apologise.’

Pause.

‘I’m sorry.’ he said.

‘It’s okay.’ said Lyuba, smiling feebly. ‘We all say things we don’t mean when we’re tired.’

Scratch, scratch.

‘Mom?’

‘Yes, Borya?’

‘If Suzi’s all good and all powerful, how come she gave you brain cancer?’

‘Well she’s testing me, isn’t she.’ said Lyuba. ‘Seeing if I remain faithful. Seeing if I’m a good servant, and... I am a good servant.‘

‘Oh.‘ said Borya. ‘Why?‘

‘Um, well it’s all part of her plan, you see.‘ said Lyuba.

‘Oh.‘ said Borya. ‘Is... Suzi going to test me too?‘

‘No of course not, she already knows your the kindest boy, to ever exist. She doesn’t need to test you.‘

‘That’s good.‘ he said. ‘I don’t want to die of cancer.‘

He returned to his homework.

Lyuba didn’t know what to say next, so she sat still for a few minutes.

‘Dinner’s ready!’ said Ksyusha.

A bowl of beef stew was set before both of them.

The three of them joined hands and prayed. ‘Thank you Suzi, for this lovely meal, shelter, friends and a loving family, all hail Suzi.’

The beef stew tasted wonderful.

‘You know Borya.’ said Ksyusha. ‘Lyuba got a surprise for you.’

‘Is it an xbox?’ he asked.

‘I... uh, I think it’s better than an xbox.’ said Lyuba.

‘If you clean the dishes you can have it.’ said Kysusha.

Lyuba was holding  Ksyusha’s hand under the table, while Borya cleaned the dishes.

‘What if he doesn’t like it?’ she asked.

‘He’ll love it.’ said Ksyusha. ‘Don’t worry.’

They were headed outside.

Borya looked at the bike.

‘Oh...’ he paused. ‘That’s cool.’

‘Do you like it?’ asked Lyuba.

‘Yeah.’ he said. ‘It’s very nice. Thank you.’

‘Do you want to ride it?’ she asked.

‘Um. Okay. Why not.’

He got on the bike and rode for a bit.

‘Can you ring the bell, so I know where you are.’ said Lyuba.

He gave the bell a perfunctory, ding, ding.

After five minutes, he came back.

‘That was fun.’ he said. ‘I’m gunna watch TV now.’

‘Of course,’ said Lyuba. ‘Enjoy.’

Ksyusha and Lyuba were outside for a minute.

‘Are... you okay?’ asked Ksyusha.

‘OFCOURSE!’ said Lyuba. ‘I’m just... so grateful Suzi let me live long enough to give him the bike.’ she swallowed. ‘Because, y’know, I was worried i’d be dead by now.

‘I’m really, really happy.’ she finished.

158.

Missy was crawling through the grass on her hands and knees, looking for snails. She had a jar in the one hand.

She found one swerving around the massive mole hill.

‘Ooh.’ Said Missy, scuttling after it.

‘Landmine.’ Said Suzi.

Missy froze.

‘Sorry,’ she said, then crawled around the mole hill.

Suzi walked through the minefield. She was six feet tall, had hydraulic thighs, shins, biceps and forearms. Her face was made of black glass, and Missy could see the back end of a pringle-can shaped computer sticking out the back of Suzi’s skull. She was a robot from one of the factories.

She watched Missy picking up a snail by the shell.

‘Here you go little guy.’ She said, as she dropped the slug into the jar, then capped it.

 ‘Why do you have those holes in the lid?’ asked Suzi.

‘Uh,’ said Missy. ‘So the snails can breathe.’

‘Oh.’ Said Suzi. ‘That’s nice.’

‘Donald’s teaching me how to mug people today.’ Said Missy.

‘Is he now?’ asked Suzi.

‘Yeah,’ said Missy. ‘He’s giving me a wooden spoon, from the kitchen, and I have to scare him as badly as I possibly can. I point the spoon at his belly and I say, I say: “GIVE ME ALL YOUR FIRETRUCKING MONEY, OR I’LL CUT YOU!”’

‘”Firetrucking?”’ asked Suzi.

‘I’m not allowed to say bad words.’ Said Missy.

‘Of course.’ Said Suzi. ‘Should have realized.’

‘What about you? What are you doing today?’   

‘I’m trying to figure out how to make people smarter, and I haven’t seemed to crack it yet. Biological intelligence is a lot harder than AI it turns out.’

‘So what, you’re like, teaching people maths and stuff?’ asked Missy.

‘Sure,’ said Suzi. ‘I’m teaching people maths and stuff.’

‘That sounds fun.’ Said Missy.

‘It isn’t.’ said Suzi.

‘But it is.’ Said Missy.

‘You have a fly crawling in your hair.’ Said Suzi.

Missy started turned her eyes upwards, trying to see the back of her head. She started patting her hair, trying to find it. Then the fly, scuttled down her head and landed on the tip of her nose. Missy smiled. ‘He’s so cute!’ said Missy. ‘Suzi, Suzi, what should we call him?’ Missy gasped. ‘What if we called him: SPIDER!’ Missy was nodding, as she agreed with herself. ‘Yes Spider’s a good name for a house fly.’ The fly crawled to over Missy’s lips, and Missy instinctively blew her lips to get it off. The fly buzzed away. ‘No come back I love you!’ she said. Suzi said nothing. ‘We have to go find Spider.’ Said Missy, getting to her feet.

‘Why?’ said Suzi.

‘Because he’s my friend!’ said Missy. ‘And friends look out for each other.’ Missy gasped. ‘What if he gets eaten by a fly!’

‘Then please go look for him, I won’t stop you.’

Missy was about to start sprinting.

‘Landmine.’ Said Suzi.

‘I know, I know.’ Missy ran away, careful to not step on the mole hills.

‘Missy.’ Said Suzi. Missy turned round. ‘We’re going on a boat ride, later today. Get everything packed.’ Missy nodded then turned around to look for Spider.

Suzi went still, for five minutes.

A fly landed on Suzi’s shoulder.

She killed it with a single flick, it’s body shooting across the garden and popping against one of the mansion’s windows, leaving a black stain. 

159.

Suzi’s old body was currently drowning in garbage, the nose and forehead just showing above the banana peels, plastics and used underwear.

The flies freckled her forehead.

The baby had been unpackaged and sent to school in China, to learn computer science.

***

Chapter 23