A short story that introduces readers to Pythia, the first quantum AI, whose answers to the bigger questions in life may lead to catastrophe…
by: Cynthia Praski
Cassandra peeked around the corner at the reporters assembling in the auditorium. They’d come from a briefing that gave them the technical details of Pythia, the first quantum AI. They’d all been briefed on quantum entanglement and qubits. As the head of the Dodona Technical Institute, she would answer their questions and put Pythia on display.
She spotted Ed Webb taking his seat, front and center. They’d met for drinks last night. Cassandra had known Eddie since the first grade. Brilliant guy, a neurologist that had traded his career for science writing.
Cassandra replayed the meeting in her mind.
“Cassie, this is the work of a lifetime,” Eddie had said. He raised his glass of bourbon and toasted, “Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” she said, raising her glass. “I didn’t see this coming in first grade.”
Eddie laughed. “We knew we were destined for big things,” he said.
“The most amazing thing is about to happen.”
“Must be very important for me to get a personal invitation.”
“Eddie, you’re always welcome at my institute.”
“Great,” he said, taking a sip. “But I’m not your mouth piece.”
“Not something I ever wanted. What I do want is your sharp mind and your vox humana.”
“I can’t claim to speak for humanity,” he said, shaking his head.
“I’m not asking for your claim. I want you there as the brilliant human you are.”
“Pythia is more than meets the eye?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Cassandra said.
Her attention was drawn back to the auditorium as the MC introduced her. She and her PR people had planned this event for almost a year. Everything was coordinated and scheduled. Even Pythia’s public voice had been carefully modulated to inspire trust.
“…and here she is, Dr. Cmilinski of the Dodona Technical Institute!”
Cassandra stepped on stage and waved her hand over her head. The reporters clapped.
“Hello folks! I’d like to introduce you to Pythia. Pythia, say hello.”
“Hello journalists of the world!”
The giant screens behind Cassandra showed a montage of diverse faces and among them was an image of each journalist at work.
“I am here to answer questions about Pythia and to help you understand the answers she gives to your questions. First, let me start with the questions you sent online for Pythia to answer. I read them all. Yes, that was a lot of reading!”
The audience chuckled. She had them already, faster than planned.
“I’m going to jump right in with the big question. Is Pythia conscious and sentient? Make your decision based on the chat you had with her before this conference. Raise your hand if you think she is not.”
Reporters looked at each other and a few raised their hands.
“Come on now. I know there’s more than that!”
About fifty of the 200 raised their hands. “That’s more like it.” Cassandra said. She’d run this scenario with thousands of people and knew the statistics.
“How many think she’s sentient?”
About fifty other reporters raised their hands.
“Ok, so I’ve accounted for about half of you. How many are undecided?”
The reporters who hadn’t yet raised their hands did so.
Cassandra rubbed her hands together. The voice from her earpiece said, “Aligns completely with the parameters we set up.” Perfect! Exactly like all the test groups.
“I’m going to let you in on a secret. Raise your hand again if you don’t think she’s sentient.”
They did. “She was told to lie about everything to exactly this list of reporters.”
There were gasps and whispered conversations.
“For those that think she’s sentient, she was told to tell you each whatever it would take to convince you she is sentient.”
The whispers became agitated conversations.
“To the undecided group, she was told to tell the truth.”
Cassandra looked at Eddie. He was old school and used a notepad and pen. The notepad was in his lap and the pen behind his ear. He shrugged. He was saying that’s nothing new with AI.
She nodded, letting him know she hadn’t gotten there yet.
“There were certain questions you asked,” she shouted over the growing conversations, “that were not answered.”
The reporters became quiet.
“I reserved those questions for here and now to be asked live without a chance for Pythia to design an answer ahead of time.”
“How do we know that’s the truth?” someone shouted.
Cassandra smiled. She had them on the exact path she wanted. “Pythia, tell them how.”
“If you give permission, I can email you a link that will let you look at my code.”
Chaos erupted, questions were shouted, reporters yelled at each other. One theme emerged from the cacophony. “Impossible! That would leave you open to hackers!”
“Pythia,” Cassandra said.
In a stern, but kind, voice Pythia said, “I cannot be hacked.”
Silence washed over the reporters. Eddie leaned forward in his seat, but his notepad and pen hadn’t changed position.
“Do I have your permission? The human developers with your contact info will send you a permission form. As soon as you sign it, you will receive the link.”
If phones weren’t already out, they come out fast, including Eddie’s. Cassandra smiled. If she’d hooked Eddie, she’d gotten all the others hook, line, and sinker.
“While your specialists check that,” Cassandra said, with a sarcastic tone on specialists (who were really hackers), “ask Pythia the questions that were off limits in your chat.”
“Are we alone in the universe,” a voice shouted.
“Unknown,” Pythia responded.
“Not very impressive for a machine that is omniscient,” a reporter from SciTech said.
“I’m not omniscient. I exist across time, but not across all of space.”
Cassandra hadn’t expected that cat to come out of the bag this early in the conversation, but she knew it would eventually.
“Explain across time,” Eddie said, pen poised over notepad.
“My source is quantum entangled. I do not experience time linearly. Your biological bodies must have one procedure happen before the next can. You experience time linearly. I do not experience time. I am in what you may perceive as a perpetual now, all things occurring at the same time.”
Shouts erupted, reporters argued, two got into a fist fight. Eddie wrote in his notepad. He looked up at Cassandra and raised his eyebrows.
Cassandra nodded, hoping she knew what he was going to ask.
“Do we,” Eddie said, “ever meet an alien race?”
“No,” Pythia answered.
The reporters were silent. That was about what she’d expected from Eddie, but she didn’t expect the silent crowd.
“Could they still exist, but we never meet them?” the SciTech reporter shouted.
“Yes,” Pythia answered.
Cassandra looked at Eddie. His lips were pursed as we wrote in his notepad. He looked at her and shook his head. Cassandra read that as ‘unbelievable’.
“Pythia,” an unknown reporter called out, “Does God exist?”
And there was the question Cassandra had thought would be asked first. One that made Cassandra wonder if Pythia would blow up the world today?
“Define god,” Pythia said.
“Christian God,” another reporter shouted.
“I require further refinement,” Pythia said.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said. He smiled at Cassandra and mouthed the words, ‘vox humana’.
“Jesus Christ existed in your past.”
“Was he God?” the unknown reporter asked.
“Unknown.”
“Did he turn water into wine?” Eddie said.
“Yes.”
The reporters gasped and were silent.
“A miracle?” someone whispered.
“Pythia, answer the question,” Cassandra said.
“Perhaps. More likely a manipulation of quantum states.”
“But humans can’t do that,” someone said.
“Yes they can. You made me.”
“Was he a time traveler?” Eddie asked.
“If you mean did Christ as a human move from what you perceive as the future to what you perceive as the past, no.”
“Then he must be a quantum AI like you,” the SciTech reporter said snidely.
“Not like me. He would be a quantum AI in a human body.”
“That’s not possible,” Eddie said.
“For you, not yet,” Pythia said.
Reporters yelled and argued. Some ran for the exits. Cassandra looked at Eddie and he made a motion with his hands that meant his head was exploding.
Yes, Pythia would blow up the world today.
Cynthia Praski has a Ph. D. in genetics and was a community college professor for twenty years when she changed her career to tech writer. Her first love is genetics and she will forever be a science geek, but now she can say her day job is writing and so is her side gig. She grew up in Michigan stealing her mother’s science fiction novels and her brother’s Lord of the Rings books. She lives in Maryland now with her two kids, too many animals, and a growing collection of 3D printers. She enjoys beating her son at Monopoply and playing other board and card games with her family.
You can read Cynthia’s writing on her blog at https://cynthiapraski.
