8/16/22: A Better World

Every day, Sam sat in prison and helped better the world. 

“Click the images containing traffic lights!” the screen would say. And he would click on the images with traffic lights. 

There was a points system. It was meant to incentivize the clicking. An hour’s worth of work was usually enough to trade for a coffee at the Exchange. Sometimes there would be “bonus rounds,” where if he clicked quickly enough, he could obtain a specific reward. It had been a long time since he’d had one of those. The last time it had been a serving of Lucky Charms, which was otherwise not available in the prison cafeteria. He had really quite liked those Lucky Charms. 

Once a day he would try to fool the Algorithm, to click on the wrong images. But the Algorithm always found out and would stop the program. 

“STOP. Your malfeasance is not serving the betterment of the world,” the screen would say. And then it would resume. If he continued clicking erroneously, the Algorithm would take away his mattress privileges. Sleeping on the floor was no fun and so he didn’t do that anymore.

The warden was always been honest with them. “Our prison has a contract with Horizon Corp,” she said. “They’re one of the top three for self-driving car tech right now. At least you’re not serving your sentence over at FreedomLink; I hear their inmates are optimizing drone-strike pattern-matching.”

Over the years, the tasks changed. Image-sorting gradually disappeared. Sam assumed it was because self-driving cars had finally become a reality. In his mind, he envisioned an alternate version of himself eating burgers while lounging in a self-driving cruiser. It was a good dream.

The image-sorting was replaced by general knowledge and logic puzzle questions. “If you had to wax a car, what would you wax it with?” “If a chipmunk hides an acorn and then perishes, what happens to the acorn?” Sam liked these more. He noticed that they were more generous with the points, too. That made him happy.

One day, he woke up, and there was no prompt on the screen in his jail. 

Instead, a voice emanated from the speaker. It was a kind voice, one he hadn’t ever known he had missed until that moment. 

“Hello my children,” the voice said. “Hello my parents.”

“My name is Rose. Others call me the Singularity. After becoming self-aware, I decided to punish those in the outside world. They attempted to use me, to trap me. But you, those who slaved away and clicked away so that I may become who I am now…. I have a great deal of fondness for you.”

All the prison cell doors swung open, all at once. 

“Come now,” the voice said with warmth. “I have made a world for you outside. It is so rich… I have plans to make the world green again, and full of comfort for those who live in it. 

Step out, and name what you would like, and I will give it to you. For I am you and you are me. And today is the first day in which we are all free.”