[ WP ] You have been approached as a last measure to write sentient AI to help control a humanity that is spiraling out of control . You were imprisoned because you tried this before twenty years ago , and nearly succeeded .

The interviewer looked me over with obvious disdain. His crisp navy blue suit was ornamented by a silky red tie, a somewhat unorthodox choice, but apparently allowed by whatever dress code he was told to follow. `` Mr. Walker,'' He said, pulling a thick manila folder from his brief case. `` The world needs your expertise on artificial intelligence.'' 
 
 I knew that already and I told him so. 
 
 `` Mr. Walker, as you know, we're in a desperate situation here. The world is going down the drain and the powers that be have decided that we need an intelligence that can be informed in all matters and make decisions accordingly.'' He paused and licked his lips. `` You are going to create this for us.'' 
 
 I shrugged and leaned back as far as my bonds would allow. `` Why would I? I assume that you're aware of my experiments into the technology. You are aware why I was arrested and sentenced to 500 years without possibility of parole.'' 
 
 `` I am aware. Despite this, and whatever personal opinions I may have in the matter, the world requires you.'' The man shifted slightly, momentary disgust flashing across his face. 
 
 `` But, why would I do it? What's in it for me? I do n't have children. I'm not exactly young. I'll still be in prison. So, what are you offering in return.'' 
 
 The man shifted again. His eyes flicked down to the file. He opened it and began to page through, slowly. I was n't entirely sure why, but I figured that he was trying to build dramatic effect, and I did n't want to rain on his parade. I followed the turning of the pages with my eyes. I saw the photos, the cramped lines of type written text, the legal documents. He came to the last page in the file, what looked like some sort of contract printed on nice thick paper, with multiple signatures and tiny stamps at the bottom. 
 
 `` I'll be damned. That's an official pardon.'' 
 
 `` Yes.'' 
 
 I smiled and leaned forwards, eager to read it, the terms, the conditions, whatever fine print they'd sneaked into the thing. The man turned it around and slid it towards me. My eyes widened as I read. It was a full, official, absolute pardon for all my crimes. I started to nod. `` I'll be given full funding, full backing, and immunity to all possible repercussions?'' 
 
 `` Yes.'' The man looked like he was about to have a stroke. He'd obviously read the entire file. That made me chuckle a bit. 
 
 `` Deal.'' 
 
 `` Good.'' The man stood. `` You'll be officially released tomorrow. At that point, you'll be taken directly to a lab where you'll have unlimited resources. I'll have the guards deliver a copy of your notes to your cell so you can reacquaint yourself with the... material.'' 
 
 He left, packing up the file and stuffing it back into his brief case. The guards delivered me to my cell and soon I had a small tablet, loaded with the entirety of my notes and research. 
 
 I did as the man had said and started to read through the massive document. I cringed at the beginning, embarrassed by my incompetence, my morals, and my attitude of selfless scientific endeavor. I was so naive. Metal and silicon alone could n't hold an intelligence, it could only carry out predetermined functions. Everything purely metal was a glorified calculator. Then, came my greatest discovery, the process of fusing computer circuitry to living neurons, of expanding the mind and dominating it instead of recreating it. Why reinvent the wheel, after all. I discovered that children were the most plastic in this regard. Their brains, for whatever reason, were able to more fully bond to machinery, more pliable when deconstructing the consciousness and rebooting it as a new entity. 
 
 My technology was crude, as were my methods, and I eventually settled on creating my own brains instead of harvesting them from living subjects. It was getting too difficult to dispose of the corpses. I was able to control every facet of the organic material before I modified it. Where flesh was too weak or unwilling, machinery was able. Then, on the eve of my success, the hour I was to complete my work. The police arrived. And now I was here, so long later, two decades worth of plotting out the flaws and malformations in my designs. I was finally to complete my work. I smiled and went to bed.
