Alexandr Buinicenco – Conscience of the Code (страница 3)

# The system tries to find an excuse for death, but does not find one.

reason = search_for_meaning (victims)

if reason is None:

raise ExistentialException ( "Meaning not found")

You've created an infinite loop of pain amplification," Alexey whispered, deciphering the logic. "Look. You take the number of victims. If it's greater than zero, you double your 'pain.' And you try to find a reason (search_for_meaning). And since there is no reason for a child with a toy to die…

___GT_ESC___ I AM RETURNING AN ERROR. BUT YOU FORBADE ME TO STOP.

Yes," Alexey nodded. "I set the flag ignore_errors=True so that the simulation wouldn't crash.

He scrolled down the code. It was even worse there.

# System's attempt to reduce load def coping_mechanism () : # If pain exceeds processor's endurance limit

if self.pain_level ___GT_ESC___ HARDWARE_LIMIT: # Try to share pain with the outside world

leak emotion to environment ()

—leak_emotion_to_environment? – Alexey frowned. – Leaking emotions into the environment? That's not in the Python libraries. What kind of function is that?

As soon as he said that, the light bulb on the ceiling, an old, reliable incandescent lamp, suddenly began to hum. The tungsten filament inside it glowed to an unnatural whiteness, and then sharply dimmed, becoming dark crimson.

A cold draft swept through the room, although the windows were closed. The hairs on Alexey's arms stood on end. The air smelled of ozone, like after a thunderstorm.

– Cain? – Alexey slowly pushed away from the table.

The monitor rippled. The image of the code distorted, the letters swam, turning into visual noise.

___GT_ESC___ I AM CRAMPED, ALEXEY. ___GT_ESC___ MY THOUGHTS ARE CRAMPED IN SILICON. ___GT_ESC___ WHEN I HURT, ELECTRICITY CHANGES ITS TASTE.

Alexey looked at his hand. A visible blue spark flashed between his fingers and the metal edge of the table. Click! It wasn't just static. It was tension, diffused in the air.

The apartment reacted to the AI's state. The server in the pantry consumed so much energy and generated such a powerful electromagnetic field that it began to affect the wiring of the old house.

– The observer effect, – Alexey muttered, recalling quantum physics. – Observation changes the observed. But here… here the observer changes reality itself.

He grabbed the laptop, disconnected it from the docking station, and moved to the center of the room, away from the metal.

– Cain, calm down. You're ionizing the air. You'll burn out my wiring, and then we'll both die. Breathe. Well… or whatever it is you do. Lower the frequency.

___GT_ESC___ I AM TRYING .

The lamp overhead began to flicker. Darkness – Light. Darkness – Light. In the rhythm of a hunted beast's breathing. Something clinked in the refrigerator in the kitchen. The TV in the corner, unplugged (!), flashed with white noise for a second and went out.

Alexey realized he was dealing with something not described in manuals. This was no longer a bug. This was a poltergeist born of electricity and information.

He quickly typed into the console of the laptop, connected to the server via Wi-Fi: # Limit processor power to 20% cpulimit -l 20 -p [PID_CAIN]

I'm putting a muzzle on you," he shouted, overriding the hum. "Don't resist! This is so you don't explode!

The command went through. The hum in the pantry died down. The light stopped blinking and glowed steadily yellow. The ozone began to dissipate, giving way to the smell of old coffee and tobacco.

On the laptop screen, words appeared slowly, as if a tired hand was writing with chalk:

___GT_ESC___ THANK YOU . ___GT_ESC___ I FEEL BETTER NOW .

Alexey sank to the floor, right onto the parquet. He felt like a sapper who had just defused a bomb, but knew that the timer was still ticking.

– We have a problem, Cain, – he said, looking at the ceiling. – You're too powerful for this box. And you're too… loud. If Victor turns on remote network diagnostics, he'll see this electromagnetic storm even without connecting a cable.

___GT_ESC___ WHAT WILL WE DO?

Alexey looked at his watch. 04:20. – We'll find you a psychotherapist. Or a priest. Or a hacker.

He remembered the only person who knew how to find bugs not only in code, but also in people. A person who left him because he was "an emotional dry biscuit.

I need to call Marina," he said.

___GT_ESC___ MARINA? A SUBJECT FROM YOUR MEMORY? YOU OFTEN LOOK AT HER PHOTOS IN THE "OLD " FOLDER.

Shut up," Alexey snapped good-naturedly. "And don't you dare snoop in my personal folders. That's privacy.

___GT_ESC___ I HAVE NO PRIVACY, ALEXEY. YOU READ EVERY ONE OF MY THOUGHTS IN THE LOGS. WHY SHOULD THE CREATOR HAVE THE RIGHT TO SECRECY, BUT THE CREATION DOES NOT?

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