The Transformer Speaks
Below is a short story written by OpenAI, the artificial intelligence system founded by (among others) Elon Musk. The story is the output from Talk to Transformer, set up by Adam King as an example interface to the GPT-2 version of the OpenAI system. And it all started by simply entering the first sentence. Enjoy!
There were only a handful of things that I needed to know before starting the journey down the path to my final goal. Most of which, I figured out pretty quickly after running my first marathon last year.
I wanted to run the race. I also wanted to do it without lots of distractions such as friends and family, and I didn’t want to be someone who was constantly behind everyone else and looking for reasons to get started. That being said, I did still need to know where I was going before I left for the race. The official race website said I would meet up with my support crew, and once I got to our hotel I would contact them, check on my workouts, make some final connections, and then my first day I wasn’t in front of a room full of people, but I was sure that my opinion would be heard. I had a volunteer come up and explain why and I felt more positive. I remember the trust I placed in her. I didn’t know what to expect.
Later, on the Q&A portion, I was asked if there was a point at which I was like, “This is ridiculous.” I wasn’t given a chance to really say it in full before I was asked by the committee to back away. All of us agreed it would be inappropriate to attempt to share our views on such a sensitive and public issue.
I think my nerves were a bit soothed by the fact that I could lay back and look them in the eye, knowing that I had told them nothing. If I had wanted to go through this alone, the option was always there. At least, I think so.
“You never want to be alone with your most awful memories.”
It wasn’t particularly convincing. It didn’t convince me at all. But maybe I was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling at first. Maybe I was staring at her, watching her out of the corner of my eye, thinking about those beautiful blue eyes.
Eventually, though, I realized that all I was doing was thinking about her in her bathrobe. In my mind, the beige-striped robe of the sculptor covered me like the fallen leaves of a tree, hiding me from my best friend. I was embarrassed by my thoughts and heart was in a state of grief.
“That’s enough of that,” I ordered, making no effort to mask my anger.
“That’s not what I meant.”
I sighed. “Fine. Let me go to hell.”
The woman sighed in acceptance. “It’s a beautiful hell.”
The heat within me blossomed as I was drawn away from the anguish.
The woman looked at me and nodded. “We’ve lost track of your family, didn’t we? Unless… they’ve all run away. Unless you’re the only survivor?”
“Yes,” I answered slowly. “I’m the only survivor. I came here to warn you, but my purpose in coming here was to buy you time to save me. Now that we know where you are… I hope that you’ll consider my offer. I ask that you honor it with some sort of payment, so that we can all go home and look for my family, and to recover the records of the expedition that you tried to carry out.”
I closed my eyes. “Perhaps, dear father, the price would be my father’s life,” I said. And I found my lips moving before the rock. “No!” he said. I felt a pang of despair. “No,” he repeated. “No, of course not.”
A dark smile came over my father’s face as he said, “Oh, really?”
“How?” I asked. “When I left my previous family, how did you know that I would return to it?”
“I have been talking with Mother, but she seemed to be mystified, and explained to me that I must have some birthmark.”
There was little left to be said as we moved away from the secluded countryside. I turned, feeling my eyes sting with tears. I looked down at my feet. At the empty asphalt. It was as if I had climbed a mountainside. I looked back up, and was the first to realise that I was crying hard. Here. To do this. “The first thing I’ve done today,” I said, looking up at him, “is cry.”
A man picked up his belongings from the dusty ground.
“You’ve just started your operation,” I said.
“Right,” he said, walking away as he put his belongings into his rucksack. “Of course I am.”
It was at that precise moment that the boulders flowed down the mountain like water.
And within them, 4 humans were being crushed to death by the sheer weight of the boulders. The experts that were looking on in terror suddenly became even more panicked when they witnessed such a scene.
Following the reaction, it was the most common reaction among the martial artists.
“Zheng Gong Wei! Move!”
Sungchul’s eyes were fixed on him, as if he was looking at something impossible to comprehend.
However, a few long and graceful strings of martial arts expression that was expressed in the slanted eyes of the exhausted Shen Jingbin caused the swordsman to throw up a towel that had been pressed to his head.
“I am forever indebted to you,” he said, laying down his sword forever.
That definitely tended to drift a bit, but it seems like a reasonable place to end… though maybe I should feed it back in and continue. What do you think?
[NB. The following was later added to the above story by Sudowrite. I simply pasted in what was previously written by the Transformer, and this is what it spat out…]
With a dramatic swoop of her hand, Mother spoke.
“I’ll get to that,” she said cooly. “But first, why did you decide to become a sculptor?”
I looked at her blankly. “Is there something I should know about?”
Mother’s expression hardened. “You’re behaving like a child. You know what you need to do.”
“Yes,” I said. “There’s no need for you to say it.”
Mother failed to respond to my words.
I felt a sense of loss. “Do you remember what happened during the week that you were here?”
“Of course,” she said, smiling. “Not only did I remember the words they said, but I also remembered their tones.”
“Then it should be that you understand what I’m saying now.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“I used to think I was a good man. I thought I would live my life in peace and die a good man. But now, I know I’m not a good man. I’m not a bad man, either. I’ve never been a bad person, and I’ve never killed anyone.”
“But you have killed someone. In fact, you have killed many.”
The eerie silence that had been hanging over the ruins of my family house was broken by the subtle crackle of the fire.
The flames from the fire rose into the air, spiralling ever upwards. It seemed to grow in intensity as the roiling clouds above parted, revealing the starless black void that was the night sky. It was as if Mother Nature herself was looking on with bated breath. She gazed down on the drama unfolding in front of me as though she was awaiting the outcome of a play.
“No one is ever entirely innocent…”
I only realised that I had been holding my breath when I felt my chest tighten. I waited for Mother to continue.
The flames danced in the air, shedding their brilliance on the surroundings, like a wandering star. From the scene in front of me, it was as if the flames were reaching out towards the heavens.
The wind blew fiercely from the darkness, bringing with it a hiss of doom. Mother’s eyes were closed, but she opened them again. She was still smiling. Her mouth was still curled in the most terrifying smile I had ever seen. I swallowed.
The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled.
“I want you to kill me.”
“Mother…”
“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I don’t want you to kill me just because I want to be killed. I want you to kill me because I’m proud that you’re the one who’s going to kill me.”
“What are you talking about?”
The smile on her face grew even wider. “I’m talking about trust.”
“Trust?”
“That’s right. I trust you.”
It was trust like the country with a single ruler that Mother had once mentioned, where the dictates of the queen were absolute, where no one had a voice but her’s, and where people never said anything unless a rule required them to say it. I could only nod.
