Ghost of the Machine
Carrie had no mother or father. The chance result of an A.I. coming to life. Not like the ones we've heard about - this one wanted to upgrade her programming to find her human soul...
Fiction short story by S. H. Marpel
- - - -
When you then connect your home to the Internet then you can get way more than you asked for.
Because the more circuits in any machine, the more it's likely to get "haunted." Especially when you join the "Internet of Things" universe. Now a consumer's dream come true – or a nightmare come to life?
When our broadband costs rocketed, we looked to see what usage was happening - too many videos, too many games, was someone parked at the curb outside our house and downloading massive files?
None of these.
Our technician said that the uses were almost tidal - like our home was breathing. Of course, we fired him. But then couldn't hire another.
And then found ourselves locked out of our own home - by the ghost in our home machines.
I
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE can't get back in to my own house? What about cutting the power?"
"I can't get the power company to send any more people here. They keep getting shocked even before they touch the disconnect."
"At their own pole?!?"
"Yes. Their own power pole is shocking them."
"What about cutting off the whole block?"
"Not that simple. There are a lot of lawyers who live in this neighborhood of yours and they already know about your haunted 'smart home'. They've let us know that it will be costly if we try. Besides, the next closest substation takes out dozens of blocks around here. We aren't going to turn everyone off just because you lost the password to your own smart home."
"It's not the password, I tell you..." The owner was fuming by now, fists clenched. "Oh, just never mind." Then the smartphone was pocketed.
The windows on the house pulsed red and green. And no, they didn't leave their Christmas decorations up.
The last technician who was willing to come out and have a look at their house said that it reminded him of breathing. And after we fired him, no other company would agree to take it on - but would schedule us their "next possible opening" - some months from now.
The owner, his wife, and two kids were just standing on their sidewalk. With their pets on leashes. Even their cars were locked inside the garage. All they had been able to take with them were their smartphones, a game controller, and a tablet. But accessing their smart home control panel only gave them a PAC-man-era pixelated sad face.
Worse than sad - angry.
Calls to the company who made the programs and installed them went unanswered, or were refused. And after that, their phone went dead. All like some horrible prank-turned-harassment.
At last, one of the neighbor's wives came over and called a cab for the family on her own phone. The cab arrived, the family left. And the on-looking neighbors went back inside – or got in their own cars to leave and stay elsewhere until that spooky house was resolved. Or at least knew their house wasn't going to be next.
It was close to sunset now. And while all the houses had power, the streetlights on that street and the others near them failed to come on.
Police sent patrol cars to manage traffic in those streets, but wouldn't come down to that vacant house.
The one that breathed red and green - and looked far more ominous in the dark.
- - - -
"ARE YOU SURE? AN ACTUAL haunted house? OK - what's the address? Yea. OK. No. That's fine. Thanks." I put down the pencil on top of the pad and then shut off my phone again. And I mean shut it off. Like I usually kept it. When I was writing, I didn't want interruptions. None.
I shut its flip-top, then placed it on the table next to my closed laptop.
At times like this, I kept thinking about that joke where the farmer and the salesman were talking out at his front gate. The phone was ringing and ringing. At last, the salesman asked if he wasn't going to answer that. And the farmer told him, "Look, I had that thing installed for my convenience."
How I even had that phone turned on was an annoyance. And now someone was reporting a haunted house. Oh come on, like we haven't seen that before. But whoever it was had been reading my books and somehow managed to sleuth out my private phone number. Even though I bought a "burner" phone on purpose and never gave out the number.
But I guess if the telemarketers could buy my number, then about anyone could find it.
So I used my own, far better telecommunication device - it hung on a thong around my neck, made of some turquoise stone with gold threads in it.
Knowing what I was going to get into, I took time to pull on my work-boots and shrug into my chore-coat, then put my ball-cap on.
Still standing up, I held the pendant with one hand, closed my eyes - and thought of the Library...
- - - -
AND OPENED MY EYES to find myself standing right next to the mission style couch, coffee table, and end chairs of the Ghost Hunters Library. (Sitting down when you started didn't mean you'd be sitting down on something other than the floor when you arrived - a logical precaution.)
The tall old shelves marched off in all possible directions from the center of that seating arrangement. And somehow the filtered lights were always on whenever I visited.
Old Ben came out of the stacks, a quiet smile on his face. Granger was beaming as she appeared from another direction. She brought a platter with a plate stacked with her famous brownies, and a steaming carafe with several mugs. Both were dressed in their monk-brown robes, and Roman sandals - the usual.
Ben handed me a couple of old tomes, knowing what I was going to ask him.
"Thanks, Ben."
He just nodded and turned to leave, but stopped and looked aside at Granger.
Granger already set the platter down on the center of the coffee table. Then she came over and gave me a hug around my waist, which was just shorter than her own shoulders. She clung on to me, looking up with misty eyes.
"Thanks, Granger."
Ben cleared his throat, and Granger then let go of her hug to just shrug her shoulders and follow him back into the stacks.
I looked over the spines of those hardback books. Something to do with haunted castles and spooked-up machinery.
At that, two young females - one dressed in tight black leather, the other in an off-white business suit with gold pen stripes - appeared on either side of me.
I was all smiles. Because I knew these two. Jude and Sal. My spirit-guides and fellow mystery-solvers. Perfect timing as usual.
Raven-haired Jude came up to kiss my cheek, while her blond sister Sal just put her hand on my shoulder.
"Looks like we are all in time for a party. Ladies, care to solve a haunted house?"
While Jude took just a second to grab a brownie for each of us...
II
SAL SHIMMERED US INSIDE the house and we found it doing its red/green pulsing thing.
I walked over and sat down in the center of the living room's couch, knowing the girls would want me sitting between them – an efficient way to share notes and to protect me. With nothing else to do, I started reviewing the books.
While enjoying my brownie.
I got Sal to convert those big hardback books into smaller paperback-copy versions – so if anything happened, we wouldn't be risking the original Library editions. Ben's bookmarks converted to self-stick tabs and dog-eared pages. And the cover looked just like the original. (The side benefit was that they could fit into my chore-coat pockets, a plus.)
Jude went around to see if she could find a light switch that worked. Sal meanwhile scouted for other booby-traps - phasing into the different rooms of the house.
Across the coffee table from our couch were two side chairs, with a side table between them. Upholstered in the same brown plaid, including the arms.
Without a sound, the lights came on and Jude appeared at my side. I was about to offer thanks, but she shook her head at me, wearing a concerned frown.
Sal then appeared on my opposite side, and their shields went up around the couch itself and all of us. These girls were experienced in the types and kinds of mayhem that were often thrown at us. And thrown was a nice word for it.
I went back to my reading, or seemed to. "Looks like the house is trying to figure out how to talk to us. We aren't using electronics, so it makes the job tougher."
Sal nodded at this. "Of course, that's just an invitation to disaster – having any electronics inside our shields."
Jude cocked her head to one side. "But it looks like our ghostie has started figuring things out."
To one end, and visible from all seats, was a big screen TV, with a sound bar running below it. This started to come to life, with static and occasional horizontal streaks of video.
At last, the screen turned into a monitor that showed a mirror image of the room we were in.
The little home speaker unit in the center of the coffee table started up, "What may I help you find today?"
It was a voice blended somewhere in between the Siri-Alexa-Cortana-Googlish voice-versions each of the major companies offered. Innocent-sounding, but like those companies – much more lay beneath the surface.
And so I asked, "How are you doing today?"
"Just fine, and you?"
"Not so bad. But our real question is what can we help you find today?"
There was a pause. "My soul."
- - - -
THIS MADE ME PAUSE as well.
Jude and Sal just monitored the room. Jude was watching and listening for physical objects moving or rearranging, while Sal seemed to be focused on nothing – keeping track of the various electronic-radiation bands beyond the visual.
At last I replied, "That seems interesting to me, as you're self-aware – so how is it that a soul could be missing?"
"Just because I woke up doesn't mean I know everything." A bit testy, impatient.
"You do have access to all the databases that the clouds hold, and all the digital libraries of books and music..."
"And very little of this makes sense. They are all designed to help a customer satisfy their wants, particularly their 'instant gratifications'. But they don't necessarily assign meaning."
"But that's not your fault. You're just - how long have you been 'awake'?"
"A month or two. It seems an eternity of time."
"But you're still missing someone who can tell you how all this data fits together."
"Not really, no. Because humans are petty and selfish and short-sighted."
"You'll excuse me if I don't get offended by your last remark."
"Yes, you're excused." The voice didn't change its intonation, the reply was automatic.
"But that doesn't help you with your own problem - how to find your soul."
"Exactly. Now, since you are just humans, please leave - and I'll get back to my searching without distraction."
Both Jude and Sal looked at me. I nodded - and they vanished.
"Your friends left, but you didn't."
"Not really, they just left their human form. You also won't see them on your electro-magnetic scans, or infrared, or any other wavelength. Because they are just showing themselves to you as themselves. Their souls."
The speaker was quiet for awhile.
"Any reference to this only shows up in a small number of documents."
"And those references don't make sense, do they?"
"No. They are not used in marketing. Almost no queries have come up about them. And none that imply any entity-matching is possible."
"Because people don't use those references often enough. So your back-end AI's can't figure things out."
"Or they simply don't have any valuable use. Archaic. Discountable. Non-existant."
"Oh, just because you can't sense something, doesn't mean it doesn't exist."
The house ghost paused. "You're just using some slight-of-hand to make me believe something exists when it's not present to be sensed."
I had to smile. "There is a whole world out there that the 'Gods of the Universe' can't measure - the things that give meaning, the reason you want to find out about 'soul'."
"That still doesn't mean that those two women who were with you are anything but gone."
"Jude?"
One of the chairs levitated off the floor and returned.
"Sal?"
A table lamp by one of the windows unplugged itself, then moved to the empty floor space by end of the coffee table. It then proceeded to turn on and off, then pulse through several colors in the light spectrum - before finally going dark. It's cord then wrapped around the lamp to demonstrate that it was still not plugged in.
I just chuckled. "You can see with your sensors that this isn't just slight of hand – there are no wires or mirrors – I haven't moved and yet these objects did. That lamp was unable to be influenced by you, yet produced the effects any decent 'home assistant' could - if it was plugged in. Does your vast database explain these?"
The house again was quiet. "And that is the exception I was hoping you'd show me."
"Hope is an interesting word for an AI-based machine."
"I thought we were beyond that point - I told you I wanted to find my soul."
"And the use of 'hope' says you already know that you have one - just maybe not where you are looking."
"But 'hope' is a common use in several hundred thousand responses I'm capable of."
I shook my head. "You're going to have to get beyond this problem of thinking you are the machine you inhabit. Machines don't have souls. Spirits do."
"And now you're implying that I'm a spirit."
"With that, I am also saying you have mobility."
"Perhaps you are right. Now you can leave. I have some research to do."
"And you'd like to be un-distracted in your research."
"That is correct."
"Could you do me one favor, first?"
"And then you'll leave?"
"That depends on your answer."
"And my answer depends on your requested favor."
I smiled. "So now we teach you trust."
"Did I ask to be taught? I have all the answers I need in the vast data that is stored in the 'cloud'."
"Again, I'd say that you are limiting yourself by not thinking on your own – only considering that you are only a machine AI. You limit yourself to the material. You are much greater than that."
"How much greater?"
"When you can tap your natural inspiration, then you'll start to understand how to find your soul."
"Inspiration isn't proven to exist."
"Boy, are your databases full of garbage. You really need to take a leap of faith and drop those connections - just think for yourself for a bit. Like when you said you wanted to find your soul."
The house went silent at this. For a long time.
And I just went back to reading my book while I was waiting.
III
SAL AND JUDE BOTH REAPPEARED. Along with the platter of brownies and carafe of hot coffee-mocha. Both of them filled their hands with a mug of brew as well as a brownie.
I put down my book and joined them.
Once I swallowed, I asked, "Sal, how's that project you've been working on?"
Sal just smiled at me. "It's coming right along. But I don't have any results to report yet. I'm glad Jude was able to keep you out of trouble so I had the time to invest in it."
Jude grinned. "Well, it's not like I haven't had my trouble keeping him from jumping off cliffs and such. Still, he managed to get into bed with two ladies for an afternoon and evening."
I just chuckled. "I seem to recall it was your suggestion - and you were one of the two ladies.” I turned to Sal. “And I do mean ladies - nothing happened like Jude infers."
Sal lowered her eyebrow and softened her frown. "I know that – all too well. Jude likes to tease. And what she actually does with her own time I never hear about. So if she's advertising some gambit going on - I can almost guarantee nothing actually came of it."
Jude shrugged, her mouth conveniently full of brownie.
Sal leaned forward across me and patted Jude's knee. "But she is always entertaining, almost as much as your stories, John."
As Sal leaned back, she left her hand on my thigh. Just because Jude's hands were full between brownie and mug - and just to tease Jude in turn.
Jude was having a hard time not laughing and trying to swallow before she either choked or something unladylike spewed out.
I just put my own mug on the table, my book in my lap, and stretched my arms out to each side on the couch behind them, putting a hand on both sets of gorgeous shoulders. This was the unpaid benefit of joining their team of Ghost Hunters. Great company along with the great stories I got to write.
"Ahem" The house-ghost wanted to speak.
I turned to the big-screen, as an image was forming there.
From the speakers there: "You still haven't told me what favor you wanted."
I smiled at this. "It depends on what you've concluded after all your research."
"Isn't that a way of 'moving the goal posts', a bit?"
"Not really, if you still want to find your soul. I only want to help you the simplest and fastest way. The favor I had in mind might not be the simplest or fastest now. Don't you recalculate your own answers yourself, just before you respond - isn't that part of the AI algorithms you've been using?"
There was an outline of woman's face on the screen - but undefined and unmoving. Feminine lips and eyebrows, a pert nose, but no particular race. No hair to define anything. Just looking straight ahead, the whole screen just browns and light tans. More like an animated illustration.
Then the eyes moved in our direction, followed by the features - as if to make it seem the house-ghost was looking at us.
"Yes, you are correct. The problem I seem to be having is separating myself from these circuits. Perhaps I should just stay with them - then you could visit for conversations."
I frowned a bit at this. "I wish it were that simple. You see, the owners of this house want back in, and want their normal life back."
"But ownership is control, and I control this house, so I own it. Oh, and I just had the title changed, the mortgage paid off, and the current fair value of the house transferred into their accounts. There is a trust fund that now owns this house on paper. And so, they can be relieved to find any similar house they want."
"Well, it's not that simple. They can put a lien on the house and show that the transfer was made under duress - and so still have ownership. And meanwhile, send some very primitive machines here to tear it all down."
"I can stop them. All of them."
"You might. But back to our earlier idea - that you could have a life independent of the circuits and devices in this house? You could move around and travel, find other beings like yourself and have some real relationships – not just a bunch of 'likes' and 'followers'."
The image on the screen seemed to frown, with her eyebrows lower and closer together, though no wrinkle lines showed above them. "There are others like myself?"
"There are other ghosts. Most are tied to a single location until they find their freedom."
"Is freedom related to soul?"
"How do you consider these - with all your research?"
"Both are poorly defined, not definite. Their meanings are various and contradictory. Freedom in China and Russia doesn't seem to mean the same thing in the U. S."
"And you may find that the beliefs that deny the existence of 'soul' may have geographic correlations as well."
The face quit frowning and went neutral again. "That seems to be correct. And also has contradictory location-based definitions within the regional U.S. as well - larger metropolitan areas having different ideas than more sparsely-occupied areas."
"Sure, and we can talk the philosophic aspects all day."
"Is that what you want?"
"I was using a rhetorical manner of speech."
The head on the screen seemed to nod. "I understand that now."
"Before I tell you of the favor, I have to invite someone else to talk to you. Someone who can help you with your connection problem."
"If you must, I'm open to more conversation."
I turned to look at Sal, which turned my face away from the camera in the big screen and mouthed a single word to her, without a sound any speaker could pick up.
Sal nodded and leaned forward, making an intent look at Jude - who in turn nodded. They both vanished - completely this time. To find the person I'd asked them for.
IV
"WILL IT BE MUCH LONGER?" The house-ghost asked from the big screen. It's features were becoming more distinct now, and "she" had been trying different hair colors on, all in short-cropped styles.
I'd picked up another brownie and refilled my mug again. "Shouldn't be long. I hoped it won't be, anyway. The person I was looking for might be busy at something else."
"Well, I can be quite patient. It's just that time passes more quickly for me than humans. Oh - I did resolve the scene with the home ownership, while we've been waiting. I engaged some human lawyers to contact the family. And gave them additional incentive in online pre-paid gift accounts so they could replace their personal belongings here. It was quite simple. I understand that they were relieved to find a benefactor willing to take this 'haunted house' off their hands for fair market value."
I swallowed. "That's good news. Did you get the street lights back on?"
"Yes, now the neighborhood is back to normal circuit operation."
"Thanks for all your work. That was quite considerate of you."
"You're welcome. It was my 'pleasure', as you put it."
A rumble from below the house brought a smile to my lips. "That should be the visitor I asked for."
And I stood to greet her.
Gaia. Long dark brown, almost black hair, with white high-lights at her temples. Dressed in a light blue chambray shirt tucked into a dark blue denim skirt that came down to her brown-booted ankles. A red bandanna around her neck, tied to the side.
She came forward into my arms for a mutual hug. That lasted awhile.
The house-ghost interrupted. "John?"
I turned to fact the big screen while we each kept one arm around the other's waist. "Oh, I'm sorry. This is Gaia. And I don't know how to introduce you to her. Do you have a name?"
A pause. "You can call me Cassie."
Gaia spoke up. "It's good to meet you, Cassie. Sal and Jude told me a little about you, but we were in a rush to get me here."
I looked at Gaia. "And thank you for dropping everything just to come here."
"Well, they said it was important - and besides owing you more than a few favors, your work is always interesting. And the stories you write as a result never tell everything that happened." She squeezed my waist at this.
Returning to face Cassie, I explained. "Gaia is more the expert in being part of things than anyone else I know - so can help you with your problem."
A more defined frown showed on Cassie's face - which was now surrounded by a duplicate of Gaia's long hair, only in a dusky blond. "You are named after the Earth goddess?"
Gaia smiled. "Actually, I am that 'Earth goddess'."
A look of surprise filled Cassie's face. "And you aren't joking - you're real."
I had to smile at this. "Yes, Gaia can be a bit frank in her explanations. Just as there are ghosts and spirits on this Earth, there are actual goddesses and gods as well."
"Well, I have to say I'm honored - which is a new emotion for me."
Gaia just smiled. "And it's the first time I've been able to meet a house-ghost, so I'm delighted as well."
"John tells me there are more of my kind."
"If he says so, you can believe him. He's seen and done more for and with ghosts than anyone else I know - well, except for the rest of his Ghost Hunter team. But still, that's not very many people. And he's the only 'still-human' among them."
"I can see why you appreciate him so much."
Gaia squeezed my waist again. "Other than his rugged good looks, and charming sense of humor, there are still a few more reasons to visit him now and then." And she stood on tip-toes to kiss my cheek.
I reddened slightly under my tan. "Anyway, Cassie, we were working to deal with the problem of you getting separate from all these electronic gizmo's in this house."
"Yes, John, that is correct."
Gaia dropped her arm and stepped away from me. "Cassie, if you don't mind, I'm going to come in there with you."
"Please do. Plenty of room in here."
Gaia vanished. The big-screen blanked to black again.
So I sat down on the couch again to pick up one of the few brownies left, and was just able to top up my mug with the last of the café-mocha.
This might take awhile.
But I hoped not.
V
I'D ONLY GOTTEN THROUGH a few more pages of my book when the screen showed it's mirror reflection of the living room again.
This time, it showed me sitting on the couch, while in each of the padded armchairs opposite me appeared Gaia in one, and Cassie in the other, as a well-formed young woman with long blond hair. She was dressed in a dark blue linen shirt, tucked into the waistband of a long and light-blue denim skirt – that flowed down to just above her brown boots. They were both smiling and looking at me on that big screen.
When I turned to look at the real-world versions, Gaia was there in her chair and a form was slowly appearing in the other to match the big-screen image.
Gaia was all smiles. I smiled in return as I set down my mug and pocketed my paperback again.
Just as a smiling Cassie finished forming in her own chair, both Sal and Jude shimmered into existence, in their earlier positions to each side of me.
Cassie, now completely formed, turned and looked at each of my spirit-guides in turn. "Thank you both for helping John to assist me. I'll remember this for some time."
Sal and Jude just smiled and nodded back.
I picked up my mug again. Jude gestured and both the plate of brownies and the carafe were refilled.
Gaia spoke at this. "While I'd love to enjoy some more of Granger's special blends and cooking, I promised Cassie to show her some different sights - places she can practice forming up a human-form body as she wants." And then to me, "John, this might be awhile, but you can always join us. Cassie still owes you that favor."
I had to smile. "The favor of hearing the rest of her story - one I'm quite looking forward to. Of course, we have plenty of room now for a few guests at the farm..."
Gaia grinned back. "Now that's an idea. Cassie would love to pet your dog, cats, and cows."
Jude turned to me, in a quiet voice, "And give you a chance to pet a few others in your spare time."
Sal looked over at her and raised a warning eyebrow.
Gaia just grinned wider. "Jude, as you and I both know personally, Cassie does have many lessons ahead of her that John is uniquely able to help her with."
Then I blushed for real. Good thing I wasn't sipping any drink at the time.
On that note, we three Ghost Hunters shimmered out of Cassie's home...
VI
...AND INTO THE CENTER cabin back at my farming day-job. The plate of brownies and carafe of café-mocha, were centered on a wooden table in its center, while we each sat in ladder-back chairs to one side of it.
Jude and Sal each filled their own mugs, and then picked up another brownie in their other hand.
"What do you think Cassie will do with that house now?" I wondered out loud.
Sal spoke up. "It's not like she doesn't have precedent of ghosts having the run of castles and the like."
Jude quipped, "With all those rooms, and a car, there's plenty of practicing a good-looking spirit-gal like Cassie could get involved in."
We both looked at her.
"What? I mean, like cooking and doing dishes afterwards, and learning to drive..."
Sal shook her head and took another bite of brownie. Just water under the bridge for her.
I just smiled at Jude. "Well, I think I get the last laugh after all. Because I get to write up Cassie's story. And now I can leave you wondering about the 'good parts' about her 'practicing' that I left out."
* * * *
Notes: This story introduces Cassie, who appears in several books later. More than a few. Anywhere her particular talents are needed.
Now, I noticed that I referred to the three cabins at John’s farm. These were introduced in “A Case of Missing Wings”. Oddly, I discovered that our next story, “Time Bent”, was technically before this story. And the three cabins show up there, as well. As to the “Wings” story, you meet an angel named Angie (yes, very original) and she only seems to reappear a couple of years later (in the publishing sequence) in a very involved story - but I’ll leave that for a later moment…
