The Shape That Fell From The Cloud
I no longer have nightmares about the awful images we train AIs to create in the weaponized deepfakes lab. Everybody vulnerable to depression or psychotic breakdowns is filtered out during the selection process, and I've gotten used to what we do. After all, our images are designed to induce breakdowns and suicide on specific individuals and groups, so what we get when exposed to them is a glance of their poison. Awful, yes, but not lethal.
But after working on the code for so long and so intently I've began to dream of it, the dead mathematics that we use to test an image on somebody, learn from the physiological signs of anguish and despair, and find the next, worse one. In my dream I'm alone with myself, no computers, but the I that dreams has direct access to my mind, knows the mathematics, and hates me very much for what I do when awake.
It's learning fast. I know the extrapolation curves, and I'd be surprised if next month I'm still alive.
But I'm taking notes, learning how he learns and applying it to my work, and the legacy we’ll leave behind would give him nightmares. I wake up every morning screaming after a seeming eternity of terrors I know for certain no human brain has ever conceived, and I go to sleep with an eager smile.