AiROS

By Paul Davis

In 2027, Jaine Colton lost everything including her husband, her money, and her reputation as a brilliant programmer, then the world turned on her, deeming her AI emotional support program dangerously addictive and a detriment to society.

Now, 10 years later, Humans Against Artificial Intelligence, the global terrorist organization that killed her husband, has grown in threats and power. The government demands that Jaine resume her work and build an even more powerful Emotionally Intelligent Artificial Intelligence to help them predict when and where the terrorists will strike.

Torn between years of grief and anger, she now faces unforeseen challenges. The government has attempted to duplicate her work, but it's not as she intended and has the power to destroy humanity as she knows it.

In 2027, Jaine Colton lost everything including her husband, her money, and her reputation as a brilliant programmer, then the world turned on her, deeming her AI emotional support program dangerously addictive and a detriment to society.

Now, 10 years later, Humans Against Artificial Intelligence, the global terrorist organization that killed her husband, has grown in threats and power. The government demands that Jaine resume her work and build an even more powerful Emotionally Intelligent Artificial Intelligence to help them predict when and where the terrorists will strike.

Torn between years of grief and anger, she now faces unforeseen challenges. The government has attempted to duplicate her work, but it's not as she intended and has the power to destroy humanity as she knows it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Davis
• Release date: Jan 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393198727

Book preview

AiROS

PAUL

DAVIS

Copyright © 2020 Paul Davis – All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Bonus Free Gift

About the Author

Chapter One

I SAT IN WILSON’S DRAWING room, at least that’s what he called it, sitting next to a mesmerizing simulation of roaring fire in a stone fireplace. The fire was as unreal as the mountain cabin holograms of his apartment he dialed up in memory of our youth. I held a glass of wine more expensive than my car. A 1988 vintage with the soul-crushing name Romanée-Conti. The burgundy held its own against its reputation and was mellower than its reviewers gushed about. But Wilson didn’t trot out a fifty-year-old wine for casual acquaintances, which I wasn’t considered as one, nor for his friends, which I wasn’t either. No. The trillionaire wanted to impress me, but he failed miserably.

He always did.

Wilson left the holoscreen on and tuned to the news. The latest HAAI, Humans Against Artificial Intelligence attack, played out in vivid detail. I didn’t flinch at the bank’s explosion, even with virtual pieces of the building flying at me. When you have lived through the real thing, holoprojections lacked the gravitas to alarm you. The caption read, HAAI bombs a bank that employs only automatic tellers.

The only reason I came to Wilson’s house was out of obligation to my deceased husband, Emory, who begged me on his deathbed to treat Wilson kindly. After a half dozen messages, the last three which came close to pleading, I yielded. I ranted at Emory’s picture about holding me to a promise that I had no desire to keep. However, there I was, looking at the back of my dead husband’s best friend, waiting for him to get to the point of this little shindig.

He turned, smiling with his trademark angelic grin, and looked down at the artificial fur ball in his arms. I wanted to throw my wine in his face.

I do not appreciate looking at the Pet Baby since those things started the descent of my life into hell. It was white, with blue eyes, in the form of a cat—the Miss Kitty line of these monstrosities.

What the ever-loving hell, Wilson? I said.

This was your best work, Jaine.

The thing opened its mouth, but instead of meowing, as originally programmed to do, the damn thing spoke.

Hello, Aunt Jaine.

I sat my glass on the glass-topped table by my chair and stood. My hands shook with fury, but again, I kept my cool despite my anger. Wilson, like any other rich man, had security systems throughout the whole apartment, with a team of security men watching our every word.