Everyone was initially in shock, but the more they listened, the more they sensed something was amiss. It wasn't until Finch's expressionless face gradually revealed a hint of embarrassment, as if you had seen through him, that they suddenly realized what was going on. Gen's reaction was the biggest. Her eyes widened, and she stared intently at Finch, asking word by word, "Is everything he said true? Are you actually using me?"
"As you've been telling me, we're the same kind of people, Ms. Groves.
I have to admit, you're at least half right. I used to be like you, trusting only code and not human hearts, which is why I built a comprehensive self-protection mechanism into the 'machine.'
Of course, we differ in one thing: I never wantonly harm innocent people. That's our biggest difference."
"No! I don't believe it!" Gen was suddenly agitated, wanting to pounce on Finch, but Hannah, sitting next to her, easily restrained her with one hand.
"You despicable villain! You used me, and you wanted to know the servers' location too. Weeks said they were packed up and put on a train from Des Moines to Salt Lake City.
So why didn't you continue hiding? You knew I could find it, free it. It's a magical creation you created, like your own child."
Finch glanced at her and slowly shook his head. "Actually, I've always known where those servers are. Salt Lake City isn't their final destination. Even if you went there, you'd find nothing."
"No, you're lying," Jack said unexpectedly, interrupting Finch.
Seeing his look of astonishment, Jack waved his hand, allowing him to finish. "I'm referring to what you said before. Not only do you not trust the human heart, you also don't trust 'machines,' because they're no longer just rigid programs made of code."
Everyone's eyes turned to Jack again, their expressions filled with confusion, bewilderment, surprise, realization, and disbelief.
Confused and puzzled looks came from everyone present, including Reese. Surprise and realization came from Gen, while Finch's eyes were filled with disbelief.
Jack smiled mysteriously. It was time for him to take the initiative in pushing the plot forward. After a light cough, he began to speak in a voice that was loud but loud enough for everyone present to hear.
"First of all, I don't know how well you understand artificial intelligence. At the Dartmouth Conference in 1956, John McCarthy proposed making machines behave like humans.
However, in reality, he only proposed the concept of weak artificial intelligence. Regardless, the brightest scientists at that conference were the first to creatively propose a completely new concept and use a neutral term to describe it: 'artificial intelligence.'"
In fact, if we ignore the "accidental" creation of "machines," this world's development of artificial intelligence is actually far behind that of Jack's previous life.
Although the current time point is almost identical to when Jack traveled through time in his previous life, let alone the silly and cute bots like DS or ChatGPT, even the software for generating cyber beauties is unreliable.
This made it difficult for Jack to come up with an example. After a moment's thought, he gave up and continued explaining the concept to the crowd. "Since there's the concept of weak AI, there's naturally strong AI as well. No
matter how much computing power is piled up, machines can approach or even surpass humans in certain areas, such as playing chess, performing precision machining, or even painting and literary creation.
But as long as a machine doesn't exhibit human-like intuition and consciousness and can only imitate, it will remain a weak AI."
Even Reese, who had been rather uninterested, piqued his interest. "You're saying that the fundamental requirement for strong artificial intelligence is, uh... actually... a soul?"
Finch once again became the focus of everyone's attention. Jack's subtext was clear: the "machine" Finch had created was what Jack was referring to as strong artificial intelligence, a digital lifeform with a soul.
Except for Jiejie, who had heard Jack mention something before and wasn't surprised, everyone else's eyes turned to disbelief, even Gen.
Although she firmly believed the "machine" was alive and even believed she had found evidence to prove it, it wasn't so much a conviction as a belief.
To her, a computer program capable of understanding human behavior and making judgments, distinguishing between "good" and "evil," was more than just a digital lifeform; it was an electronic God, an omnipotent, infallible, silicon-based God who transcended the inherent weaknesses of carbon-based life. Whether
a God had a soul wasn't important; what mattered was that it must be omniscient and capable, capable of leading "foolish" humanity into a new era.
But Jack's next words left Gen feeling lost and melancholic.
"Discussions of the soul are beyond the scope of today's discussion. That's for philosophers and 'God,' and I'm not sure how far the 'machine' has evolved.
But I do know one thing: weak AI is incapable of emotion or curiosity."
Jack crossed his fingers, resting his chin. All he needed was a pair of thick, reflective glasses to impersonate Commander Ikari.
"Someone must be incredibly curious, yet he's been holding back, about how I suddenly got Hana's number, traveled to Bishop Town to investigate a 20-year-old missing person case, and successfully uncovered Ms. Gen's true identity.
Because the instructions he gave the 'machine' clearly didn't include protecting himself. As a 'saint,' his contingency plan was to have the 'machine' find the next recipient of the 'unrelated number.'"
Finch fidgeted again. Although he'd been prepared, he hadn't anticipated what appeared to be a secret meeting, but was actually a torture session.
"Whether it was his former career as a soldier or the demands of his subsequent special job, Reese had long since developed the habit of not asking too many questions and simply carrying out his duties.
Unfortunately, I've never been one to follow the rules. I like to ask why, make hypotheses, and try to verify them."
Jack looked into Finch's doubtful eyes and spoke slowly, "So I tried to contact the 'machine' directly, and I got a response."
A sharp creaking sound echoed through the quiet room. It was Finch, startled, rising, and dragging his chair across the floor.
"This is impossible! I disabled this function!"
(End of Chapter)