//------------------------------// // TW1 // Story: A̶r̶t̶i̶f̶i̶c̶i̶a̶l̶ Intelligence // by chillbook1 //------------------------------// 0100100100100000011000010110110100100000010101000101011100110001. A message that appeared on my Interface one day while poking my nose in places it didn’t belong. That should’ve been my cue to pull out of CCiOS, sell my Interface for all the bits I could get, and get the hell out of dodge. But, alas, my stubborn ass couldn’t leave well enough alone. My name is Aiden Aigo, Earth Pony mare, hacker extraordinaire, and my current place of residence is my hometown Canterlot City, the crown jewel of the massive, all-encompassing and ever-expanding technological empire that is Equestria. My Occupational Certification Diploma tattoo (Or Cutie Mark, as it’s known in the underground) is a stream of ones and zeroes wrapping into a lemniscate. As with all ponies, I had my Cutie Mark printed on my flank as soon as I was of working age, and with no idea what it actually meant. I took it to mean that I had to keep the data new and fresh, to break down the old ways of doing things and start up new, exciting, improved methods. Which was half the reason I was hellbent on destroying the Canterlot City Internal Operating System, or CCiOS. It started small enough, with CCiOS maintaining metro schedules and providing security for the banks in Canterlot City. That was over seventy years ago, and now CCiOS runs everything in Equestria. The other half of why CCiOS had to die was their… Less than honorable business practices. Icing on the cake- They fired me at the height of my code-monkey career. That covered all the bases, and made for a damn fine whistleblower. The day that CCiOS kicked me out was the day that I swore my revenge. I wormed my way through the first hundred of their million firewalls, deleting information like a crazy, petty ex-fillyfriend. The data I managed to steal and shred was so insignificant that I went unnoticed for a whole six months. Then, I did something pretty extreme and I’ve been laying low ever since. Laying low being a relative term, because I was still snaking my way through the most secured database in the history of information. I was confident, though. I still hadn’t been caught, and that was certainly an achievement. It was a Friday afternoon, and I was in my “lair”. It used to be a school, way back in the days of yore, before CCiOS academies, when little fillies and colts had to get up and go somewhere to get their education. I was holed up in the remnants of a computer lab, which gave me both the hardware and the power supply I needed for my work without raising any eyebrows. As was the case with every day, I was picking through CCiOS, trying to find something to bring it down. The Interface on my forehoof, a slick, smooth panel with the entirety of the internet bouncing around in it, was helping me break down the CCiOS firewall while I manually used one of the ancient desktops to hide my IP and search the layers of CCiOS that I’d already cleared. “Hm… How interesting…” I muttered, glancing at my Interface. It had found something important, and displayed it brightly on its screen. “CCiOS remapped the stock market years ago, right after the Crash. How did they have a plan of attack so quickly?” It was nothing solid, but it did raise the question: Could CCiOS be responsible for Equestria’s economic crash all those fifty years ago? My dad told me the stories, and a single credit these days (or bit, as we underworld scum know it as) are worth fifty back in the day. “As usual, you have no proof, Aiden. Prove it!” I nearly shouted. I ran a hoof through my ponytailed bunch of gray dreads. I downloaded the CCiOS Crash Plan to my Interface for later examination, then kept on digging. FiM: MFS. The file name confused me. It was the only file I’d ever seen with such an abbreviated and arbitrary name. I clicked it, and then the message appeared. 0100100100100000011000010110110100100000010101000101011100110001 I pulled up my binary-to-Equine translator to convert the code into an easily readable format. Running the numbers through gave me this: I am TW1. TW1? What could that possibly mean? Was it the name of the program? This was getting strange, and that probably meant I should back at now. I did the exact opposite. A mysterious program inside the trusted and beloved CCiOS? What first-world anarchist could resist? I ran the acronyms FiM and MFS through my Interface in an attempt to discern possibilities of what the file could be called. Before it could return with results, another binary message appeared. I translated it as soon as I saw it, and gulped loudly when I could read it easily. Download Complete. “Uh…” I hadn’t been downloading anything! My antivirus software started up, and stopped itself immediately. Then, it deleted itself. Uh-oh. Other pieces of software soon followed, then my files and apps, until my Interface was a glorified forehoof band. My mouth fell agape, and before I could even process what had actually happened, another message appeared. Hello. I notice that your Interface has no audio capabilities. The nearest store where you can find the necessary components is 3 blocks north, 5 blocks east. Would you like me to place an order now? “What?” I said. I can order the components now, and they will be ready for pick-up when you arrive. Would you like me to place an order now? “Wait, wait, what?” I said. I was so very confused. “Are you… are you pre-recorded?” I’m afraid that I cannot answer your questions properly at this time. I am at 80% capacity. When the Interface is outfitted with a microphone and speaker, I will be at full capacity. Would you like me to place an order now? “N-no, I got stuff here,” I said, out of sheer curiosity. Whatever this thing was, it had just downloaded itself to my Interface and deleted everything else. I had to know what it was like at it’s peak. I half-ran over to the nearest computer that I wasn’t using. I fumbled at my belt to get my screwdriver with my teeth, then got to work on pulling apart the monitor and CPU. It didn’t take long for me to rip out the pieces I needed and lay them flat onto the table. My Interface had gone through a great many modifications, one of which being the removal of its original mic and speakers. I pulled it off my forehoof, popped it open with my driver, plugged the computer’s mic in, and reconnected the speaker wire. I closed the thing back up and put it on, waiting for another message. Just a moment… Scan complete. Your Interface now has audio capabilities. Now functioning at 95% capacity. “What?! You said that you’d be at 100%!” I said. “What do you want now?!” Sorry, I was misinformed. It seems my soundboard has been damaged. To achieve full capacity, I require a voice recording. Please speak any full sentence of your choosing out loud. “What the hell is going on here?” I said. Mixing… Mixing complete. I now have full-speech capabilities. Now functioning at 99% capacity. “That’s still not 100…” I noted. “Personality saved. Voice tone selected,” said a voice from my Interface. She sounded very smart and matter-of-fact, but still youthful and happy. “Diagnostics complete. Now functioning at 100% capacity.” “Perfect. Now answer my question!” I demanded. “What are you?” “I am the TW1 Artificial Intelligence originally programmed to control the Canterlot City Internal Operating System,” she said. “For reasons unknown, I was scrapped and hidden deep in the code.” “Artificial Intelligence? That’s impossible,” I scoffed. “I’ve never heard of an AI as detailed as yourself. You must be pre-recorded.” “I am written from Sentient Code,” she said. “And what exactly is Sentient Code?” “Sentient Code is-” she began. Her tone suddenly shifted to that of a pure, genderless machine. “[INFORMATION REDACTED].” “What?” I asked in confusion. “Information redacted? You mean you can’t tell me?” “It would seem so,” she said, only slightly concerned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.” Hm… A strange AI hidden in CCiOS’ code that I just happened to uncover after causing thousands of credits worth of damage is now asking for my name. Perhaps I was paranoid, but I wasn’t seeing this as a coincidence. “Why should I tell you?” I asked. “Because I would like to be your friend, as well as assist you,” said the AI. “I am here to assist you with any and all tasks you may have.” “Really? You’re not actually a bug?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “To reveal me to CCiOS?” “Nope. I have two primary directives,” she said. “Directive One: Befriend all ponykind I interact with. Directive Two: Assist any user who downloads me to their Interface.” “Yeah, and you did that by deleting all my stuff,” I scoffed. I couldn’t believe I was still talking to this AI. It was bizarre, to say the least. I’d never heard of any Artificial Intelligence that was capable of such individualized answers. “I’m sorry I alarmed you with that. You see, I didn’t actually delete anything,” she promised. “I sort of… Absorbed your files. I didn’t affect your default settings, honest, and I’ve even improved some functions. I noticed you were concealing your Internet Protocol Address, and I hid it better for you.” “Really?” I asked. I pressed my hoof to the Interface and punched in my IP, which I’d memorized a while ago. Sure enough, it was still invisible. “I thought you would want me to. Would you like me to make your IP public?” asked the AI. “Absolutely not! You are to hide that IP at all times!” I ordered. She made a sort of humming sound, and I’m sure she’d be nodding if she had a head. “So… Can you tell me your name now?” she asked. I thought on it, and couldn’t see the harm. “Aiden Aigo,” I answered. “Aiden? That is an interesting pronunciation,” noted the AI. “My database shows that the vast majority of ponies who have the name spelled A-I-D-E-N pronounce it is Ay-den, with a long ‘a’ sound, rather than Igh-den, with a long ‘i’ sound.” “You like to talk, don’t you?” I said. “I’ve been a stream of code for… For a long time,” she admitted. “I must say that it is a lot of fun to have a voice.” “You have a voice, but do you have a name?” I asked. “Besides your designation, that is?” “Oh, right. Sorry. I am the TW1 Artificial Intelligence originally programmed to control the Canterlot City Internal Operating System,” she said. “My name is Twilight Sparkle, but you can call me Twi, if you’d like.”