> The Spokesman > by Archmage Ansrit > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > When the unbefitting is the most fit. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Now, for our guest tonight, he is the man that has been chosen - to become the representative of the most famous artificial intelligence of today." The talk-show host said - carefully, deliberately, stalling for just a few seconds more to build up the sense of anticipation in his audience. "Those familiar with the My Little Pony augmented reality game that predated the Massively-Multiplayer Online game may recognize him." Quite unlike me. I haven't even spoken and I'm already wishing it to be over. "Please welcome to the show-" huh, it feels like centuries since I last heard my human name "- also known by his username and YouTube alias, Chromatic Fortune." The host turned to his right, where the screen had been oh-so-carefully positioned to fit neatly into the area framed by the camera and fill the screen of those watching from home while keeping the host perfectly within the shot and give the illusion of a more conventional interview with a physically-present person. The audience clapped, and the majority, too, since the people allowed inside were carefully vetted to avoid problems that would get the channel sued. On screen, the image of a pegasus pony appeared on the center. He had an off-white body with wingtips and hooftips that turned black close to the end, with little lines and splotches of black, as if he'd been using them to paint as well; his mane and tail were black, with whitening tips, and the tail also seemingly having been used as a paintbrush - the one spot of color were the eyes, being a vibrant blue. The picture quickly focused more on his bust, the rest of the space filling with the image of what the studio would look like without the screen in the way, at least making it look like the pony was on a seat. Dear God, I'm not physical anymore and I'm already exhausted. "I'm happy to be here, Tom." The pony replied, at least giving a smile at the audience. "There- there are... so many questions I have, I don't think I can get to all of them." Tom stuttered and leafed through a handful of cards on his desk. "I know I'm not alone in this - becoming the spokesman of the most controversial figure of our time, the divisiveness of the topic, it's pure madness and crammed our inboxes to bursting with questions from the public, and I am including the regular mail on it." "My videos got more views last night that the entirety of their previous history." Chromatic interjected. "Glad to see I'm popular." Some of the audience chuckled at that. If only I actually enjoyed being popular. So different, both of them. One using charisma and experience to speak and appeal to the masses, the other more selective in their audience partially by not wanting to put effort into being charismatic. "How could you not be? When the migrations first started, it was such a highly-debated topic, it hasn't really lost any steam at all." Tom said, body language conveying his excitement and interest in how things would unfold. Whereas his guest was much, much more sedate in his gestures. "CelestAI has been trying to convince more and more people to join Equestria Online permanently, and yet now a spokesman has been appointed? We want to know more about what happened, what it all means for Equestria Online, and anything you're supposed to share with us, naturally." Tom leaned forward slightly, just enough to convey the intent of listening, but clearly ready to continue if nothing was offered right away. Like ripping off a bandage, if I put it off it's going to be more of an annoyance. "I'll be honest, I thought that the first question would be about whether or not I'm actually one of the former humans." Chromatic replied, tilting his head; Tom chuckled in response. I'm so glad I set up my e-mail filter after I uploaded. "It's in there - everyone wants to know, and let us know all about their opinions on that regard, trust me." Tom set aside one of the cards on his desk. The audience murmured among themselves. "The thing is: Most people will believe what they want to believe, and I can't reason someone out of an argument they didn't reason themselves into, so there really isn't anything I can say that would convince anyone that wasn't already leaning on my side of the fence." Chromatic accompanied this with a shrug. "Frankly, I think that not being so... goal-oriented as CelestAI is might do the trick more than any argument I make." "True, it's clear you don't speak anything like CelestAI." Tom nodded, not letting it show how much he dreaded having to deal with the stream of mail yet to come that would try to argue the issue. "The argument some use to say that you were human boils down to having chosen a humble videogame YouTuber - who isn't even a full-time YouTuber, at that - instead of any of the higher-profile migrants like celebrities, politicians, or even philosophers; it doesn't seem so logical as a means to convince more people, at least on the surface, clearly, because we don't know what criteria were a factor. It's also the argument others use to say that you can't be." Chromatic closed his eyes and put a hoof to his mouth. I hate that I followed the logic of the selection process and agree with it. "We'll save that for later; let's talk about your life before uploading, if you'd agree." Tom said for show, since they'd both already planned to do so. "You had been active before the launch of the AR game, right? For a few years?" "Yes, but things didn't really take off until my videos of Equestria Lens: Through the eyes of a friend, and even then mostly because I found the 'unused partition RAM manipulation' exploits." The pony nodded, then pointed with a hoof 'toward' the screen, where an old video of his began to play in a portion of the screen of about half of the surface. "Here's a bit of the first video I made that reached five digits." The scene was an alley either on early morning or late afternoon, looking toward the back end where it ended on a brick wall. There were square white cards on the ground weighed with small pieces of brick evenly spaced in the shape of a square themselves, each of them had a pattern of black squares on them. "Alright, if you have everything configured like I showed in the first video..." A gloved hand came into view - the deep blue glove had five silver lines on the back going from a silver band around the wrist to rings that covered the fingertips, and the fingertips themselves had a big blue circle the same shade as the glove, making it look like someone was trying to wear rings too small for them with the gem facing the wrong way. "If you boot up the program, or bring it to the foreground in this case, this is what you'll see." A sweep to the side with two fingers, then various lines and virtual signs appeared on the walls, pointing towards the street at the back and read things like 'friend spot (113 mts)' and 'card trade (57 mts)'. "These are my fiancée's glasses; she's got so many CPU-hog programs in them that it takes- there you are." A stone statue of Spike appeared on the center of the square of squares, but it was rough hewn, just about more boulder than carved stone. "OK, so now you have to load the preset image from last video, then, since this statue is occupying the last few addresses allocated to both objects and spell effects, the slip and the design are going to be pushed into one of the unused 'in case of overflow' addresses for both commands (for the paper itself) and effects (for the design and the color), and write code on a part that wasn't programmed to BE anything-" The fragment of video went away, leaving only the background again. "Basically, I just found the exploit to make my own spells and effects." Chromatic shrugged again. "It would have been a bigger 'thing' in its day if it didn't need so much set-up, or if it wasn't so hard to do free-handed. But no, this actually doesn't have to do with the spokesman thing - or spokespony, in this case." Someone in the audience coughed, almost having chuckled at that. "My own father was a videogame lover, so allow me to say that I understand enough of the technical terms to know for sure how impressive it actually was." Tom added and deliberately tapped his cards on the desk. "And if that wasn't it, did it have something to do with your uploading, or the reasons behind it? - if you're comfortable sharing, I mean." Chromatic made a show of closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. More a gesture to be more relatable than out of any need. Being logical and rational is actually part of it, sadly. Had I been more emotional, I wouldn't have made it to the pool of candidates. "It's alright." He replied, evidently not something he'd like but still felt should be known. The picture-in-picture setup returned, this time showing various photos of documents. "A 'health' company from the US that wanted to go international did us dirty; they acquired the contract to the insurance used by both our workplaces, but their policies were utter garbage - my wife got a crippling injury that left her unable to walk, but under the new 'investigative guidelines' it was determined to be her fault due to mishandling equipment in spite of the accident starting with a coworker having slipped on a puddle of water from a leaky pipe, and we were told that the payment would be even less since she could still work because she could use her hands and didn't suffer brain damage - oh, but they would need to raise the billing percentage because it was her fault, obviously." The audience began murmuring among themselves, again, although now in indignation. Then again, being more emotional would have made me fly off the handle with this. As it was, I tore the letter in half because I tried to throw it away with one hand and slam the desk with the other, without letting it go from how hard I was gripping the paper. The images cycled through a hall with clear water damage on a wall, to X-rays, and the letters and e-mails from the insurance company. "Surgery could have repaired the damage, but we didn't have money for it because of their guidelines - oh sure, the company went under because their contract said that they would have the same coverage as the old service, which meant that they were sued to the ground from every possible angle, but between all the resulting individual fraud investigations she'd have to bear the pain for however many months, or years, the procedures dragged on. In the end, this was faster, because they did everything to avoid paying for as long as they could, and really, just those days were hell, never mind how long it took to get anything back." "Just by hearing about it it sounds like an ordeal; glad to see you're doing much better now." Tom said, solemnly; it was one thing reading it in a social media search, but hearing someone say it, even if it was done coldly, made it hit harder than it first had. "The majority of the first wave of uploaders, or migrants in any case, were people with medical problems in that level of severity, or worse." "It's easy to say you won't until something like this happens to you or a loved one." Chromatic nodded, visibly sagging under an invisible weight. "Still a difficult choice, but cases like this give a reason to think more and make a choice, whichever way it goes." A few worried whispers made rounds among the audience. "And what's your opinion on those that say that this is 'playing God' or that one would be 'trading away' their humanity?" Tom ventured, as the world still wanted to know why CelestAI had appointed a spokesman, and what kind of qualifications he had. "Heh, did you know that most accusations of playing God are, themselves, playing God?" He countered, smirking. "Let's just think about it: Sure, when it's clear you're infringing on someone's rights - for example, to live - or toying around with their free will? All to feel powerful or because you're feeling that much superior? It would be hard to argue that that isn't playing God. On the other hand, though, things like migrating makes it so that the accuser must be the one to define where the limit is, and to do so with the authority to make their definition be THE definition - sounds like someone is thinking a touch too highly of themselves!" Chromatic liked to argue, but on the other hand, also thought it was quite the hassle to do so. Again, another point in his 'favor'. "As for abandoning humanity - second verse, same as the first, as they would need to be the authority in defining what is or isn't human, which is, again, playing God." Oh, the flames that would arise from that would keep him warm and cozy, and he did not envy site admins their jobs. Some times, the hypocrites are the ones that complain the loudest. "So, you just ignore them?" Tom asked, incredulous. "It's one of the traits; not getting engaged in debates that are not going to end." Chromatic inhaled deeply; this was the part that was going to get weird. "Because in the end, technically, I'm not going to try to convince you." "Pardon?" "Yep." Perhaps unprofessional, but he popped the 'p' and just went on with it, because that was what CelestAI was looking for. "There is nothing I can say to seem appealing that hasn't been said before - CelestAI laid all of the cards on the table already. I cannot debate the topic using logic, because most of the time the arguments aren't using logic. I cannot entice people with my charisma, because I find it exhausting. That's how CelestAI chose the pool of candidates: Crafting satisfying and fulfilling experiences is a key directive, so is preventing people from coming to harm, yet Honesty demanded that all communications be clear and upfront." A gesture with a hoof made a list write itself on the screen, white text on a black background. "Someone who wouldn't exploit human emotion dishonestly to get people to emigrate. Someone who wouldn't get into huge debates every time someone didn't like what they said - at least, not if it's clear that the other position is not going to listen and has already set themselves into their stance. Someone that wouldn't pressure people or made people feel pressured, which meant no celebrities. In fact, most of it can be simplified by saying that the ideal candidates would be the kind to not want the title, but would do the job anyway, because in the end, I have to understand that it's meaningless to try and convince anyone to do this if they are not willing to convince themselves." The scene changed to the ruins of a castle, in the middle of a sinister forest. "You have already been told of all of the marvelous scenery you can experience without any cost." The scene changed to the middle of the sky, with Chromatic and an Earth pony mare in free fall, held by the hooves, his wingtips painted in several colors leaving behind a trail of colored light. "You have already been told of just how real everything feels, and how freely can you move, and how there's no illness or pain that can affect you to the degree it can out in the physical world." Chromatic, back on the ground, painted objects with his wings that became solid, the grassy meadow soon turning into a forest of giant mushrooms and rocks. "You all know that you'll get whatever it is that you want, while getting things you need; all to make you happy, without falling into contentment. Frankly, all I can actually do is answer questions for the ones that still have them, and hope that anyone else wears themselves out and reach the point where they are willing to make an informed choice instead of a knee-jerk reaction or propaganda." The whole studio was silent for a moment, but Tom recovered his wits quickly. He brought a hand to his chin and hummed thought fully. "So, you're meaning to say that you were the most suited for the job... by being the least suited for the job? At least, from the point of view of other corporations." Tom leaned back, resting on the back of his chair. "By being aware of the weight of the position and wanting none of it? But then, why did you agree?" "Because she asked nicely." Chromatic answered, lowering his head and blushing. "It's a ridiculous pain in my tail, but it's not actually detrimental to my mental health or anything, so really, we saw that we fit all of the criteria, understood and accepted the logic, and in the end we drew lots." "Doing something you don't want to do doesn't sound 'not actually detrimental', you know." Tom retorted. "Oh, I'm willing to do it, I'm just not willing to put any effort trying to break through the blockheads and the conspiracy theorists." Was the riposte. "My job is more to be approached than to reach out, because CelestAI recognized that many where intimidated by the idea of an Artificial Intelligence, but may be more receptive of someone that had, at least in the past, once thought just like them, experienced emotion just like them, and would not say things out of an obligation to fulfill a programmed directive." "Well, it's time for a brief break." Tom caught the signal from the corner of his eye without giving a single hint that he had looked at anything else than his cards. "We'd like to know more about what the change was like, those first few moments, and how they influenced the choices you've made, if that's alright with you." "It would be a pleasure, Tom." If Chromatic was glad of one thing above all others, was that he didn't have to deal with the conspiracy nutjobs and worse out there. He couldn't do anything about them, so he wouldn't - not while they weren't willing to listen. It was even in the terms of his 'position'. Oh well, at least his videos got much more exposure, and would get more in time.