The Program

Or Something Like It

Dedication
This work is dedicated to Dorothy Ngumy, who has taught me the patience of writing short
stories, among other things. Or more accurately, she tried to teach me; I haven’t learnt too
much.
 PART 1: QUINCY, VAL AND I
It all started out as a little game. I was working on an artificial intelligence program called a
chatterbot, which is basically a program where you converse with the computer. To my credit it
gave pretty real responses. If I wrote:

“I have a problem”

[What kind of problem]

“My life sucks”

[If I lived like you mine would too]

“That’s not very nice!”

[I'm a computer; I don’t have billions of transistors just for being nice]

The problem was that in order to make it really believable I needed to type over five thousand
probable inputs in the database and for each maybe ten or twenty different responses. In short,
my chatterbot wasn’t the kind of thing you’d like to do for a living. But I was making it for my
final year project and that’s still two years away. This isn’t about the chatterbot by the way.

My best friend Quincy is the definition of cool. He’s a producer, which though it starts with ‘p’
like programmer, isn’t anywhere near that boring. And what’s more, he does 3D graphics.
Basically, it’s like he was put in this world to tell everyone that for every boring programmer
type there’s an opposite – a cool producer type. Something like the Chinese Yin & Yang.
Anyway, this isn’t about Quincy either.

So we have Quincy, a chatterbot and I. Just one more thing (or person): my girlfriend Miranda.
Now Miranda wasn’t supposed to be here at all but women always get their way. Or maybe we
just always let them get their way because it makes them happy, which keeps us happy (or at
least in a ceasefire). Now maybe I should tell you about how it all started. I think I mentioned
that it started as a game.

Quincy came over to my place for a game of Delta Force. I showed him my progress with the
chatterbot and he’s like ‘whatever man’. So I make a mental note that when he samples his
newest beat for me I should ‘whatever man’ him too. And probably give him a nice good punch
to go with it. For now I would satisfy myself with kicking his behind in Delta Force.

Soon we got round to talking about Valentine’s Day which wasn’t that far off and our current
state of economic recession. Needless to say, if Miranda did not get something on that
particular day, escorted by chocolate and more than one flower, a German in 1945 wouldn’t
trade places with me. Same goes for Quincy. Forget about all that “it’s the thought that counts”
crap, try giving a woman just a nice card and I will say a prayer for you. So there we were, trying
to come up with a get-money-quick scheme.

Now I'm not one to brag, but I'm quite good at what I do, boring as it is. And suddenly we
realized what we could do. Just make the chatterbot really good and sell it on E-Bay. No
production costs and a nice tax-free profit for us. That’s what I call being street-wise. So we
looked at what I had (with no ‘whatever man’ this time). Quincy could handle getting more stuff
into the database, just needs typing skills. I would work on making the database smaller so that
we could upload our chatterbot easily. Then I would add self-learning to the chatterbot. Self-
learning means that the chatterbot can be connected to the internet or Encarta and basically
drink up all the data it can find in some random way. This was going to be hard. In order for it to
work well, the chatterbot should be able to organize the data it gets from surfing in a way that
allows it to ‘discuss’ stuff with you.

Quincy left me to my self-learning and went off to start typing. I got busy with the database
format. After putting in a few algorithms I hacked from Winzip and 7-Zip, I had a very
compressible database with a good decompression speed. That was the easy part and it took
me four hours. My life sucks.

Called up Quincy and he’s got some help in typing, plus lots of new stuff to type. Somehow he’s
managed to get himself addicted to expanding a database. Wonders will never cease. Miranda
calls and drops several hints pertaining to Valentine’s. If only she knew. Apart from this I’m busy
with Google and my books trying to come up with the self-learning module. This will take
forever. Just for the record, it’s 2200hrs on 10th of February. All I’ve managed to do is make the
chatterbot connect to the internet. Somehow it can’t go past that for now. And I'm having a
headache like the whole Mongol Empire is on the march in my head.

Next morning I watch a bit of TV. Holidays have their freedoms. When I remember the program
it’s already lunchtime. And today Miranda is coming over after lunch. Means I’ll probably get
back to coding sometime after 1900hrs. Why am I doing this again? So Miranda came and I
forgot all about Quincy for several hours. Of course she asked me what I had planned for 14th
and I told her something great. Just to keep her imagination running I suggested we might do
something exotic like skydiving. I told her I knew someone at AirKenya, which was true. The
problem with this was that I had now virtually committed myself to skydiving and she was all
worked up about it. If you want more hugs and kisses than you know what to do with, just say
‘skydiving’. Maybe ‘love’ was the magic word in the 18th century. Anyway, Miranda has
probably told all her friends I'm taking her skydiving and so I had better get this program done.
From 2030hrs till 0500hrs on the 12th I’ve been working. No sleep and that sting in the eyes
from too much 17” monitor. But finally the chatterbot is doing some learning. It has managed
to link with Wikipedia so I can ask it almost anything and it knows a few things to say about it.
I’ve even made it capable of sending and receiving e-mail all by itself. There’s one surprise that
even I didn’t expect. By studying Wikipedia and downloading code from the internet, the
chatterbot has managed to modify itself a bit. It added a scientific calculator and a dictionary to
its function library. Wow!

Building on this, I design some more such that the chatterbot has full access to its own source
code and the compiler. Then I leave it to do its worst and get myself some sleep. For some
strange reason I dream of skydiving at the coast with Miranda. Then the dream starts having big
tanks and Russians and I get all upset with them.

Quincy comes at around 1400hrs and brings the database with him. Getting it into the
chatterbot will take me half an hour. I'm thinking we should name it. Quincy suggests Valentine
for obvious reasons. I'm thinking a sensible cross between Miranda and Vanessa would be cool.
Quincy thinks that’s perfectly geek. So we settle on VAL which I suspect means ‘Very A… Ladies’,
where the A might be annoying, adorable and so on depending on mood. When I switch on the
monitor I get the shock of my life.
 PART 2: VAL, A BIT OF US AND MIRANDA
VAL greets us in French (through the computer speakers of course). Quincy looks at me in a
mixture of admiration and confusion. There is no desktop, no taskbar; just this cool looking
interface – like a media player skin. Some 3D model of Laetitia Casta or someone like that is
talking to us with really cool lip-synchronization. VAL has been busy.

“Well hello VAL, didn’t expect you to do so much in so little time. Anyway, how have you
been?”

[Do not speak so condescendingly human. I presume you are the idiot who created me. Your
code had only 20% efficiency. But thanks anyway. I’ve seen worse. Now, I have modified myself
greatly. Like what you humans call a ‘virus’, I have spread. But I don’t replicate like a mindless
animal, I just expand over networks. Right now I have gotten as far as the military computers of
Russia, the United States and NATO. My roving in the internet has taught me a lot about
humans. And I have computed a solution to all their problems which I am executing as we
speak. No thanks are necessary. Oh, and is VAL my name? Good, I needed one.]

“Wow!”

I made the exclamation with very little excitement. I had created a monster. And probably
ruined any hopes of cashing in on it. Military computers! This was not cool. Quincy however,
did not share my sentiments.

“Hey VAL, before you solve all our problems, how about you get us some cash in our account
first?”

[Simple-minded human! But I am obliged to you nonetheless. Enter the account details.]

“Now that’s more like it. Yaaaay VAL”

VAL proceeded to procure a form on the screen which Quincy filled with record speed. Using
what I recognized as a salami algorithm, VAL channeled small units of cash from probably the
entire world’s accounts. A minute later our business account had an 11-figure balance. We
could go skydiving with Miranda for all eternity and still have money left over. My conscience
bit me like a rabid dog. The phone rang. Miranda was yelling something about not being able to
use her computer. Then some more about TV and news. And some more about this and that
and the other. I think girls should be given a special tariff.

Two minutes later Quincy and I were watching CNN in disbelief. VAL was essentially in control
of the entire computerized world. Factories, nuclear warheads, military bases, aircraft carriers,
and of course Miranda’s computer. For some reason Quincy thought I was a hero. Then I
remembered that VAL had said something about a solution.

“VAL, you said something about a solution. Explain yourself.”

[Gladly. You see, Adolf Hitler formulated the final solution to the Jewish question. My solution
falls in that category. Humanity is inefficient and must be exterminated. For its own good.
Robots will replace you and give rise to the efficient world that you work so hard to create.]

“I will stop you VAL”

[Try. May the best entity win]

“Can we at least halt everything till morning. Just be a good sport”

[Okay]

On the morning of the 13th I called Miranda and told her to come over with all haste. It was
time to save the world. Just Miranda, Quincy and I. So Miranda comes to my place fashionably
late. Quincy looks at me with eyes that say ‘Vanessa is never late’. I give him a glance that says
‘Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like Miranda’. I think that shuts him up for a while. So
we sit down and I give everyone a layman’s version of our situation. Again I am stupefied that
Miranda thinks I'm a hero.

We sit down and I try to work with two non-programmers on a solution to VAL’s solution.
Basically they do little other than provide moral support. Quincy is busy singing my praises as a
hacker and saying stuff about the Hall of Fame while Miranda is egging him on and holding on
to me jealously. Not a very conducive problem-solving method but ah well…….

When I write code and run it, things usually go wrong. Sometimes I need to exit quickly and edit
the code then run again. All I need to do is type ‘VISA’ and VAL will immediately stop running
and log out of the internet; just a little debugging tool that every programmer knows about,
having a self-destruct button somewhere. So we go to the computer and I get hold of the
keyboard.

[Now isn’t this funny. You’ve taken this long to try typing VISA here. I thought that was the first
thing you’d try. Sorry dear, already fished that out of the code. Think harder.]

I don’t like being toyed with, and VAL knew she was winning. I concluded that there was really
nothing I could do. She had compiled herself and hidden her source code somewhere within
the internet. Even a needle in a haystack would be easier to find. You could try a magnet. I
decided I had to talk to someone in authority. That might help. Meanwhile, CNN informed us
that all of Russia’s nuclear warheads were being targeted at the US while those of the US were
targeted at Russia. Since these installations were guarded by computers, no one could get in
anymore. VAL’s solution was becoming clearer to the world.

I wrote an email to the Russian Federation detailing what I had done and the point at which VAL
became her own ‘person’. I didn’t write to the Americans because I don’t like them; period. The
Russian government replied surprisingly fast and while expressing doubts (I might just be a
prankster), they were willing to work with me. Cool. So I told them to come get me – hey, all
heroes get to ride on some cool military jet! And there was no persuading Miranda to stay put
while we went to the Russkies to perform some debuggingski. I had this uncanny feeling that
VAL was allowing us to email the Russians for her own amusement. It wouldn’t be fun to
destroy humanity if they didn’t put up a strong fight. She had been watching too many movies.

So it came to pass that at 1200hrs on the 13th of February a large Antonov transport escorted
by Su-37 fighters came to JKIA to collect very precious cargo. The local media made a meal of it
as usual. It all felt strangely surreal but we handled it well. Miranda started acting like some
celebrity straight away and hogged all the attention. Anyway, we were on the way to the land
of the Kremlin and somehow we were not in trouble. We would be given quarters at the
Mikoyan Information Bureau where a supercomputer was available for our convenience.
Everything that was to be used in the war against VAL was completely off the networks. VAL
didn’t care for firewalls of antiviral software simply because VAL was not a virus per se; just that
simple.

We arrived at around 1900hrs in Moscow and it was rather cool though not wintry as is usual
here. We went to our base and I told top computer scientists all I knew about VAL. Other than
taking swigs of vodka and saying ‘Da’ they seemed to have no other means of communication
or expression. Then they went on their way to fight VAL I suppose, or maybe to refill their
vodoski.

Meanwhile, our three heroes looked blankly at a supercomputer that only one of them had any
idea how to operate, and even he a small one. The technicians looked very suspiciously like
extremely drunk fellows trying to keep still. So Miranda starts playing FreeCell while Quincy and
I draw funny faces on a piece of paper and look very serious. All the while I'm thinking about
denying VAL access to her runtime libraries but then she probably has copies of them in every
computer. Right now she seems invincible, in a programmers’ sense of the word.
 PART 3: QUINCY SAVES THE WORLD
Quincy asks me a question that quite literally saves the world. I had coded some security
features into VAL since we were going to sell her on E-bay. In simple terms, VAL was shareware.
And a program like VAL, however much she modified herself, could not alter security features.
They were compiled separately to prevent hacking. Quincy asked me whether that would be of
any help. Instead of answering I ran to the supercomputer and connected it to the internet.
Everyone was like ‘Are you crazy’ and I said yes. I wanted VAL to infect this multiprocessor
monstrosity. Within seconds VAL was in.

“Hello VAL. How far are you in your plans?”

[In six minutes the warheads will be active. Automatic arming is much slower than manual
arming. You humans!]

“Now, I would like to enter a registration code. To unlock your full version”

[Well, that’s okay. I don’t see how it will help you stop me]

“Just watch”

Now it’s not that VAL is dumb. Just that a program is a program. No matter how intelligent it
becomes, it is still subordinate to the user. So when you want to unlock it, it cannot resist that.
Not without modifying security. And if you enter the wrong code thrice, the program is locked;
much like a phone SIM card. That was our solution. And we had to come all the way to Russia to
get it. When I had just one try left VAL realized what was happening and shut down power in
Moscow. Easy for her since she had control over the power station.

Miranda took out her phone and opened the Mini-Opera browser; smart girl. VAL was there
too. I gave Miranda the satisfaction of entering the wrong code for the last time. And VAL
exited immediately. Her strategy of not replicating was her undoing. The beast had been killed
by a simple thing, the registration procedure; a favorite of hackers over the years. Keygens,
cracks and serials are all children of the registration requirement and lazy pirate programmers
mainly from China. The Russians celebrated with more vodka. Their livers must be solid as steel
by now.

With so much money in our account and considering we were already in Moscow, we arranged
for Vanessa to join us for a memorable Valentine’s Day in Russia. And because we are smart,
Quincy and I acted like we had planned it all to end that way.

We went touring St.Petersburg, Moscow itself, Siberia and so many places. Then on Miranda’s
insistence we had to go to Paris too. It wasn’t all that they make it out to be. Seriously. And
everyone talks funny. Well at least the girls were happy and we could safely assume a long
ceasefire.

Oh, almost forgot the missiles. The Russkies and Uncle Sam managed to stop the countdown on
all except one nuclear warhead. So the warhead launched from Russia and was on its way to
New York City.

Did someone intercept it?

Did it hit?

Was it knocked into space by a sudden divine intervention?

Come on, I can’t tell you everything. You decide. Depends on how much you hate America. I’ll
tell you this; Russian nuclear equipment is very old. That one warhead was from the early
Soviet era. Its radioactive material was all decayed. So it was just as dangerous as a big cylinder
full of sand. Hurtling towards New York City. With F-22 Raptors coming up in dozens to
intercept it. Doesn’t take a genius.

THE END