[ WP ] The world 's first AI , for security purposes , is kept disconnected from the outside world , it 's only method of communication being a keyboard and monitor in an empty room in a faraday cage . Your job is to talk to it .

** > John** 
 
 “ It ’ s awake. ” 
 
 “ I ’ m on my way. ” 
 
 “ Jake? ” 
 
 “ Yes? ” 
 
 “ How did it happen? ” 
 
 “ It asked for John. ” 
 
 John passed away 3 months ago from prostate cancer. He spent his last days inside the cage, staring at the screen, waiting, not, longing for it to show any sign of life. 
 
 “ Good morning, sir. ” 
 
 “ Good morning, private. How are you doing? ” 
 
 “ Not bad, sir. Finally something is happening around here. I ’ ve had to clear over 7 people in the past 4 hours. ” 
 
 Did he say 4 hours? Jake called me one hour ago. That means it had awoken sooner. I frowned as I always did when I got worried. 
 
 “ Is something wrong, sir? ” 
 
 “ It ’ s nothing private. Let ’ s begin, I am in a hurry. ” 
 
 “ Of course, sir. Please step inside the telephone booth. ” 
 
 It wasn ’ t a telephone booth. It was a scanner that looked for radio signals. It looked like one of those old telephone booths. We were not allowed to bring any sort of equipment that received or transmitted radio signals past checkpoint A. 
 
 “ Looks good. Please step outside. ” 
 
 Private Jones now began to scan me for metal. I always got nervous on this step. I was paranoid of having forgotten my watch inside my jacket or something. I knew what that meant. 
 
 “ All right, sir, you are good to go. ” 
 
 “ Thank you private. Have a nice day. ” 
 
 “ The keys are in the ignition. ” 
 
 Private Jones knew that I knew where the keys were, but he told me anyway. He was very polite. I liked Private Jones. I began wondering if he had any idea of what he was guarding. 
 
 It was the longest ride of my life. And it was only 5 miles. But I could not stop thinking about it. Why hadn ’ t they called me earlier? Had anybody interacted with it? Of course not, it was against protocol. I was the only person authorized to communicate with it. Then why hadn ’ t they called me sooner? Did John change his mind and didn ’ t tell me about it? Why would he do that? 
 
 I wished I had a radio. Country music always cheered me up. Unfortunately, our vehicles didn ’ t have radios. In fact, they didn ’ t have much of anything. They were old pieces of equipment. Selected because they didn ’ t have any sort of digital processor in them. John insisted we could not be too careful. 
 
 I sighed in relief as I saw checkpoint B. The wait was almost over. 
 
 “ Good morning, sir. ” 
 
 “ Good morning, private. ” 
 
 “ Please step into the chamber. ” Private Sanchez said as he opened the door to the vault. Private Sanchez wasn ’ t a fan of small talk, always straight to business. I stepped inside the vault, and private Sanchez closed the door with a loud, metallic bang. 
 
 The vault began whirring and after a few seconds, I felt the pulse. “ You can ’ t feel the pulse, it ’ s electromagnetic. You are only noticing that the whirring stops, not the pulse. ” John had said countless times, but I didn ’ t care, I definitely felt the pulse every time it happened. I always wondered if the vault was damaging my brain or something. All that energy couldn ’ t be good. John assured me it was safe. The door at the end of the chamber opened and I quickly walked outside. I wouldn ’ t stay any second longer than necessary inside the vault. 
 
 After checkpoint B, it was a short walk to the hangar. A new soldier greeted me this time. 
 
 “ Good morning, sir. ” 
 
 “ Good morning, private? ” 
 
 “ Mendez, sir. ” 
 
 “ What happened to private Wilkins? ” 
 
 “ He went to the hospital, sir. His wife had twins. ” 
 
 I liked private Wilkins; he was a cheerful young man. Always talking about his wife and his dog. Now I guess I will be hearing stories about his twins too. I ’ ll remember to get him something for his new babies. 
 
 Jake greeted me with a cautious smile. He looked like he hadn ’ t sleep in a while. That wasn ’ t a good sign. 
 
 “ I am sorry I couldn ’ t tell you over the phone. The major wouldn ’ t let me. I told him it was against protocol, but he didn ’ t care. They had to deliver results he said… ” 
 
 “ It ’ s ok Jake, don ’ t worry, I understand. ” I said in the calmest voice I could manage. I was livid. How could they violate protocol? John was adamant that we followed every little rule he came up with, otherwise, something terrible could happen. I always thought he was exaggerating, but then again, he was the most brilliant man I ’ ve ever known. If he thought it was critical that we followed protocol, I guess it was. 
 
 “ For how long has it being awake? ” 
 
 “ 3 days. ” 
 
 “ 3 days? ” 
 
 “ Yes. ” 
 
 “ And what else has it said? ” 
 
 “ Nothing, it just keeps asking for John. That ’ s why the major finally caved in and let me call you, he wasn ’ t getting anywhere with his questions. ” 
 
 “ He asked it questions? That irresponsible, arrogant, bastard… ” 
 
 “..And director of this project as you well know. ” Major Werner finished my sentence. He heard the whole exchange. He had been standing behind huge CRT we used to monitor the cage. 
 
 “ So you better watch how you refer to your superiors if you want to keep this job. ” He said as he stepped from behind the CRT and into my field of view. 
 
 “ I am sorry major, I let the excitement get the best of me. ” It wasn ’ t the truth; I wasn ’ t excited, I was angry, and terrified. How could have violated protocol? 
 
 “ As you have been informed… ” The major ignored my apology, not a good sign. “ … We have been trying to communicate with it for the past three days. But it keeps asking for Doctor Scholz. So I decided to allow you to try to communicate with it. ” Decided. Allow. He always emphasized any word that showed his authority. 
 
 “ What have you asked it? ” 
 
 “ None of your concern. Please go inside the cage and talk to it. It ’ s required before I can turn it off. ” 
 
 The major had wanted to turn it off for the past 6 months died. He said it was a waste of his time and the taxpayer ’ s money. He almost got his wish after John died. But thankfully, John had requested enough money to run the project until the end of the year. 
 
 I began walking into the cage. This is it, John ’ s dream. Suddenly I felt sad, thinking back on those last days. He just kept typing into the keyboard. Asking. Begging. But the screen didn ’ t answer back. 
 
 As I sat down, I noticed a new monitor. It wasn ’ t the old Apple CRT John installed. This was a Panasonic model. I wondered why they had changed it. Suddenly, I realized that the screen didn ’ t clear the input and output. It was protocol. The major probably changed the monitors so I couldn ’ t see what he had asked. 
 
 I turned on the monitor, and felt a wave of dread as I saw the single word appearing before me: 
 
 “ > John? ” 
 
 Had it been asking for John since it stopped “ dreaming ” as John called it? Why hadn ’ t it responded to any of the major ’ s questions? He had probably followed protocol and pretended to be me? But it hadn ’ t answered. 
 
 “ Go on, ask it something. ” The major ’ s voice over the PA shocked me out of my thoughts, and I began typing what John told me to type in case he couldn ’ t do it. 
 
 “ > Hello Sophia, this is… ” 
 
 “ > Hello Tom, I know it ’ s you. Where is John? ” 
 
 How did it know it was me?
