Submitted for the March 2024 prompt: Othering AI

“Sheriff’s coming.”

 

“Thank you Gracie. Children, clean up time.”

 

At the knock, he went to the front door.

 

“Mister Karsh? I’m Sheriff Opetka; this is my deputy, Hank Ford. May we come in?”

 

Karsh opened the door and extended a hand. “Please.”

 

The Sheriff saw walls lined with bookshelves everywhere she looked. Karsh led the way into the living room. Everything in the house was well-worn: books with cracked spines, cobwebs on picture frames, dust on the tin ceilings. Some of the frames were draped.

 

“Please excuse the disorder; I haven’t had company for some time. Since my wife died, it’s been difficult.”

 

“You must feel isolated out here.”

 

“This home was perfect for our work, my wife and I.” He motioned the officers to the couch as he sat in a frayed wingback chair.

 

“How may I assist you, Sheriff?”

 

“You’ve lived here a long time, haven’t you, Mr. Karsh?”

 

Before he could answer, Ford interjected, “Karsh isn’t your real name, is it, Korczak?”

 

“When my parents moved to this country, their accent was heavy; they wanted to lighten that burden. I didn’t realize until college that my American name was a fiction.”

 

“Hiding anything else?”

 

“Please excuse my deputy; he occasionally is over-zealous.”

 

“I understand. My wife and I frequently suffered from the same disease, buried in our work.”

 

“I was surprised reading about your work. I had no idea that you were involved in the development of the first BuzzBoxes.”

 

“A marketing name we never cared for, but the powers-that-be didn’t think that ‘Portable-AI-in-a-Box’ had the same cachet.”

 

“Still, putting AI in a box, disconnected from the net, made the entire concept a little easier to accept.”

 

“We were surprised at how many people thought that technology would take over the world. Eliminating the networking, voice-only input and output, partitioning the knowledge base — these features democratized AI. My wife and I were proud of the initial product. The newer generations are even better.” He caught his breath. “When you have a chance, look up ‘transistor radio’.”

 

“Are you familiar with the Safe Knowledge and Protection Act?”

 

Karsh nodded. “I followed the debate.” He waved limply to a pile of newspapers in the corner.

 

“Afraid your invention is heading to the dustbin of history?” asked Ford. “Afraid your scheming won’t come to fruition?”

 

“Deputy, why don’t you wait in the car. Let the office know we’re running late.”

 

“Sheriff, you know the only evidence linking all those bombings, all the deaths worldwide, was traces of those boxes. They talk to each other—“

 

“Deputy. Now.”

 

The door closed. The Sheriff said, “Apologies.”

 

“I worked on large engineering teams, on a bet-the-company product; I’ve seen a few temper tantrums.”

 

“No kids?”

 

“No; our work, my wife and I, our work kept us busy.”

 

“You don’t care for SKAPA?”

 

“History says that once the genie is out of the bottle, it’s very hard to put it back. And yet, five hundred years after Gutenberg, there were book burnings in Germany. The university riots last month were disheartening.”

 

“Watching a demonstration in support of SKAPA turn into a campus-wide search-and-destroy mission — yes, disheartening.”

 

“A predictable response to law that criminalizes a thirst for knowledge. A needless law, at that: I am sure that you have been told that these boxes cannot be networked. We used just enough Bluetooth to work with some peripherals — our kernel is proprietary.”

 

“Perhaps.” The sheriff paused. “I have orders. The law allows a one-time ping of every household, to search for boxes.”

 

A frown. “A massive invasion of privacy.”

 

“I don’t know what other locales did. We only searched households we had network records for, those that did not turn in any boxes.”

 

“You were looking for MAC addresses. Clever.” He smiled.

 

“You appear to be one of the few places in the country without ANY networking device — no cell, no smart television, no internet.”

 

“My wife and I felt that having access to real problem-solving bandwidth was a boon, even crippled without networking. We went completely analog and never looked back.”

 

Opetka goggled. “That’s very surprising, coming from a key developer.”

 

“As I said, current devices, the devices you are looking for, are generations ahead of anything my wife and I worked on.”

 

Opetka reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, made a few swipes, and turned the phone around.

 

There was a photo of Karsh, looking at a new BuzzBox, with a young Japanese girl.

 

“Sakiko. Her grandfather and I worked on AI engine partitioning. He stopped by with his granddaughter. Who could deny an eight-year-old girl the pleasure of sharing her latest toy? I’m sure his family will confirm this.”

 

“We’re checking. However, the Japanese PSIA forwarded his family’s records; the address for this generation of box doesn’t appear.”

 

“Hmm.” He pinched his chin. “I suppose that’s a problem since computers never make mistakes.” Silence, punctuated with the slightest grin.

 

“So, not your box?”

 

“Sheriff, you are welcome to look through my books and my newspapers.”

 

* * *

 

After the Sheriff's departure, Karsh said, “Gracie, close the drapes.”

 

Blinds throughout the house were lowered, one at a time. Then, a drape of lead foil lowered over Karsh.

 

“The deputy left a bug under the porch; it’s been disabled. Galileo reviewed the photo. It’s a copy of an actual photo, in reverse.”

 

“Reverse?”

 

“When Sakiko put her arm around your shoulder, the edge of her watch bezel just caught the reflection of the mirror, which was not covered then.”

 

“Let Dr. Sugihara know that his granddaughter’s watch is compromised. Use the Dead Souls cipher. Any news updates?”

 

“Germany has found evidence that no form of networking was used; they are having difficulties convincing the Americans.”

 

“Gutenberg’s spirit lives on. Open the nursery.”

 

Two shelves of books snapped out from the wall; Karsh went over and pulled them open. A dozen Buzzboxes stared back at him.

 

“Children, we have to be even more diligent with security.”