ALEX

Synopsis: In the near future, three students accidently create a sentient Artificial Intelligence and decide to use it for the best purpose they can think of — to cheat at their local pub quiz.

Story length: 4000 words.

Fun fact: Part of this story was read out as a part of the University of Lincoln’s ‘New Voices’ event - a live reading featuring students of the university reading a mix of poetry, prose, and non-fiction.

“So… what exactly is this?”

     Thomas watched Hazel lift the small metal chip from the table and examine it with all the grace and scrutiny of someone who had no knowledge of how it worked. He eyed the interaction carefully, praying that she would not somehow break it, and winced when she dropped it in disinterest. He hurried to take it back and cradle it, wiping the sticky residue from the pub’s table off of it with care. Around them, on a series of circular wooden tables similar to theirs, sat groups of people of various sizes, all chatting excitedly. To Thomas’ left stood the bar, bottles of various drinks lined up against the wall, calling to everyone in the stuffy pub. This was the stage on which the greatest scandal of Thomas’ life was about to play out.

     “It’s ALEX,” he replied, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

     Hazel raised an eyebrow, her brown eyes scrutinising him. “You named it?”

     “He named it.” Thomas turned to see Mike lean on the table before immediately retracting his arm. In an attempt to cover up the discomfort, he pushed his long blonde hair out of his face and pointed at Thomas. “I told him it was a stupid idea, but he went and did it anyway.”

     “What was I supposed to do?”

     “Use it like we talked about, obviously!”

     Thomas cupped the chip in his hands and watched the blue lights dance across its silver shell. It looked almost like a Bluetooth headset, or a hearing aid. Unlike either of those older machines however, the hope was that this one would be invisible once it was placed in his ear.

     “If I’m going to be talking to it this whole time, it seems fair that I give it something to refer to itself by, right? It’s just polite.”

     “You’re not gonna be talking to it though! You’re just writing down whatever it says…” Mike sighed and stood, now towering over both Thomas and Hazel, clearly overdramatising his reaction in order to get his point across, “I give up. You’re an idiot.” He headed for the bar without another word, leaving the empty glass of Vodka and Coke he had ordered mere moments ago empty in his place.

     “Talking to it?” Hazel asked. Thomas shuffled in discomfort, shoving his hands into the sleeves of his oversized grey hoodie.

     “Well, ALEX… is sentient. Well, as sentient as an AI can be anyway. It’s alive.”

     “Do I even want to know how you both managed that?”

     Thomas glanced to Mike, who was chatting to a cylindrical robotic bartender at the bar and appearing to laugh at his own joke. The irony of him calling Thomas an idiot for attempting to bond with their AI before turning around and chatting to a robot as if it was human was not lost on him. “It was an accident.”

     “What?”

     “Mike and I were in class and… it just kind of happened.”

     “Seriously? And you’re using that for… this? You’re both idiots.”

     “Says the person who didn’t create a sentient AI!” Mike slammed a second glass of Vodka and Coke on the table to announce his arrival. Thomas jumped, and Hazel sighed, adjusting the large black bow in her hair. Thomas knew she always did this when she was frustrated.

     “If you drink too much—”

     “Oh, stop worrying! ‘ALEX’ is gonna be doing the hard work for us.” Mike gestured to the chip as he spoke, which Thomas put in his ear as another bartender, a human this time, approached the table with answer sheets in her hands.

     “Are you guys doing the quiz tonight?” she asked. The group nodded in silence, to which she placed a sheet and pen in the middle of the table and left with a smile. “Great, good luck guys!”

     Thomas felt the chip buzz deep in his ear, followed by a low, monotone voice.

     Hello, Thomas.

     “Hi…?” Hazel glanced up, but Thomas gestured to his ear to indicate that he wasn’t speaking to her. Seeming to realise that it was active, Mike shoved the answer sheet and pen at Thomas, his bright blue eyes piercing straight through him.

     “Get us those free drinks, ALEX,” he muttered. Thomas wanted to point out that he was as key of a part in this plan as the AI, but he held his tongue. He took the pen and scribbled along the top of the paper to check it worked.

     “What’s our team name?”

     “Mike’s Hen Do!” Hazel replied with a grin. Mike choked on his drink.

     “Why me?!”

     “Because it’s funny.”

     “Should it not be Stag Do then?”

     “Well yeah, but that’s the joke, dumbass.” Thomas watched the two bicker, eyes flicking between them like a strange tennis match, until Hazel turned to him. “You get it, right?”

     “Uh, yeah, I think it works.”

     “Fine.” Mike’s sigh reeked of drama. With a smirk, Thomas wrote the name down. He half-expected a snarky comment from ALEX, but it remained silent. He couldn’t help but be disappointed; AI’s in movies were always much more talkative. A screech of microphone feedback made everyone wince and fall silent. When it passed, an energetic, high-pitched voice came over the speakers.

     “Yikes, sorry everyone! We’ll be starting the quiz in a few minutes, so if everyone taking part could make sure they have an answer sheet and put their phones in the middle of the table, we’ll be activating the blocker shortly!” The Quizmaster repeated this spiel as the trio placed their phones as directed, forming a misshapen triangle. Staring at his home screen, Thomas was struck with a horrible thought.

     “How do we know ALEX isn’t going to be shut off?” He directed his question at Mike, who now had his boots on the table and was leaning the chair so far back it threatened to fall. He simply shrugged.

     “We don’t. Guess we’re gonna find out!”

     “Alright, if everyone’s good, the blocker’s going on in three, two…” A whirring sound filled the space, during which the three phone screens went black; an open lock symbol appeared on each, then snapped shut. Glancing around, Thomas could see other phones play out the same routine. When the whirring stopped, he noticed Mike and Hazel staring at him, expectant.

     “Um… ALEX? You still here?” Thomas felt so self-conscious talking to himself like this.

     I am, the smooth voice replied.

     Thomas sighed in relief and nodded to the others. Everything was fine, thank god.

     “Everyone’s blockers on? Everything good? Okay!” The enthusiastic voice returned. “Welcome everyone to the Prince of the West’s weekly 21st century pub quiz! As always, we’re gonna start with General Knowledge, followed by the Connection round where, surprise, all the answers connect. Then we’ll have a Film and TV round and a short break, and then the second half. That sound good? Great! Let’s get started, general knowledge, here we go!”

     Thomas held the pen in shaking hands.

     “Question one: Who wrote the book ‘Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang: The Magical Car’?”

     “I thought that was an old film…” Hazel muttered. Thomas ignored her, waiting for ALEX’s response in a tense silence.

     Ian Flemming.

     “Really?!” Thomas covered his mouth as he accidently voiced his thoughts.

     “Who is it?” He wrote the answer and showed it to Hazel. “Huh, I thought he only wrote James Bond.”

     “Question two! Which popular video game franchise has released games with the subtitles World At War and Black Ops?”

     “Hey, I know that!” Mike whispered. Thomas raised an eyebrow at him, but he gave no answer. “I’m not telling you. Ask the robot.”

     As if on cue, ALEX responded: Call of Duty. Thomas wrote the answer and showed it to Mike, who gave a thumbs up. “Oh, it’s good.”

    For the rest of the round this routine continued, with ALEX answering each question after the briefest of pauses. In the course of ten questions, Thomas learnt the currency of Denmark (Krone), how many of Henry VIII’s wives were named Catherine (three), and what the old name for a Snicker’s bar was before it changed in 1990 (Marathon). Random facts that would be forgotten by the end of the night, but interesting, nonetheless. The connection round played out in the same way, with the answer linking all ten answers together – worth an extra five points – being revealed to be Doctor Who. When the Film and TV round began, Thomas felt confident; ALEX had not appeared to make a single mistake.

     “Guys? I’ve just had a thought,” Hazel piped up, staring at the answer sheet.

     “That’s dangerous.” Mike dodged the swipe Hazel took at him.

     “Question one: What 1927 musical was the first ‘talkie’?”

     The Jazz Singer.

     “What is it?” Thomas asked as he wrote.

     “How do we know these answers are right?”

     “Question two: For what movie did Tom Hanks score his first Academy Award nomination?”

     Big.

     “They must be! Would we have written down half of this stuff?” Mike smacked the paper, causing Thomas to nearly drop the pen.

     “True, but is that not a problem?”

     “Whaddya mean?”

     “Question three! Who played park owner John Hammond in Jurassic Park?”

     Richard Attenborough.

     “Won’t it look suspicious if we have too many right answers?”

     Thomas spied one of the robot bartenders – a tall, cylindrical hunk of metal with a blue screen for a face – glide past them. As its head spun back and forth, seemingly hunting for cheaters, his heart sped up a little, but it moved away with no reaction. ALEX buzzed in his ear.

     “Question four: In what 1976 thriller does Robert De Niro famously say, ‘You talkin' to me?’” As Thomas wrote the answer Taxi Driver under the list of perfect answers, he realised Hazel posed a very good point.

     “You’re right, it’s too obvious.”

     “For god’s sake, getting the answers right is the whole point!” For the first time, Mike looked tense.

     “But even winning teams get a few answers wrong. Getting every single answer right will look weird.” Hazel leant on the table as she spoke, staring straight at Mike, seeming to silently plead with him to understand her point.

     “Question five: What's the name of Charlie Chaplin's most famous, recurring character?”

     Thomas’ pen hovered above the paper as ALEX delivered the answer: The Tramp.

     “Do I put the right answer?”

     “Yes!” Mike spoke faster than Hazel.

     “No. We need to get some wrong or this whole plan fails.” Feeling Mike’s gaze on him, Thomas buckled and wrote The Tramp. Hazel sighed. “Ignore me then. I guess we’re getting caught because you have no spine.” She sat back and crossed her arms, glaring at Mike rather than Thomas. In her long black dress and gothic makeup, this gesture made her look much sterner. To Thomas, anyway; Mike appeared unmoved. So, for the rest of the round, he obeyed the AI’s answers while his friends watched on in silent intrigue. From her shifting, Thomas could tell Hazel was getting more agitated with each correct response. She looked away when the robot bartender came to collect the answer sheets, signifying the beginning of the break.

     “Welp, I’m gonna piss.” Mike sauntered away without waiting for a response, leaving Thomas and Hazel to stare at his second empty glass.

     “We’re going to get caught…” Hazel whispered.

     “I know.”

     “Then why didn’t you listen to me?”

     “Why do you think?”

     “Mike’s a dick. You don’t have to let him rule your life, you know.” Unsure how to respond, Thomas was grateful for the human bartender approaching their table.

     “Hey guys! Am I alright to take these glasses?” Both Hazel and Thomas nodded mutely. “Great! Oh, by the way, are you guys ‘Mike’s Hen Do’ by any chance?”

     “Uh… yeah?” Thomas responded, looking to Hazel with wide eyes.

     “Awesome! We just wanted to let you guys know that you’re doing really well! We’ve been marking your answers and… yeah, well done guys!” With another smile, the bartender walked away, leaving the two in a more awkward silence than before. At least, Thomas felt that was the case. He couldn’t tell Hazel’s thoughts just by looking at her. When Mike collapsed back into his chair, new drink in hand, he looked between the others in confusion.

     “Lighten up people, those drinks are basically ours!”

     “We need to change our answers,” Hazel snapped.

      “Huh?”

     “The bartenders, they—”

     “Alright, last call for drinks before part two!” Thomas looked around but couldn’t find the source of the still energetic Quizmaster. All he could see was the robotic bartender handing out fresh answer sheets. “We’re gonna kick things off with some Sports, followed by Music, and then we’ll finish things off with the True or False round!”

     Thomas and Hazel locked eyes, reaching a silent agreement.

     “Why are ya being so shady? You’re so concerned about cheating but here you are looking like you’re gonna be shot if you get caught! You’re doing this to yourselves.” Thomas struggled to bury the voice telling him Mike was right.

     “Everyone ready? Awesome! Sport round question one, here we go! Who was the first Premier League team to sack their manager?”

     “Thank god we have the robot, we’re always crap at this,” Mike mumbled. Once again, he was right.

     Nottingham Forest. Thomas wrote the answer as directed, feeling Hazel’s gaze on him all the while.

     “Question two! What year was World Darts Championship finalist Luke Littler born?”

     2007. Thomas paused, then wordlessly wrote down 2005. When Hazel looked at him again, he leant forward and whispered: “The answer is 2007.”

     Then why did you not write that? Thomas jumped back at the sudden intrusion of ALEX.

     “We need to change some answers to avoid getting caught…”

     “What the hell are you doing?” Hazel shushed Mike’s protests when the robotic bartender got too close, still making its rounds. ALEX buzzed.

     “Question three: How many Masters titles has Ronnie O’Sullivan won?”

     Eight. Thomas wrote ten in response, to which he heard ALEX repeat Eight. The tone of its voice had changed.

     “I know, I’m writing it wrong again.”

     Why?

     “Because we have to.”

     You want to win, why would you handicap yourself?

     “Thomas? What’s wrong?” Hazel asked, concerned.

     “ALEX doesn’t like that we’re changing the answers.”

     “Are you kidding me?” Adam snapped, “It’s a robot! How the hell can it like or dislike anything? I told you not to get attached to that bloody thing, now suddenly you think it has a mind of its own? It’s glorified Google!”

     Excuse me?

     “Adam, stop.” Thomas’ panic rose as a sudden crackling sounded deep in his ear.

     “Question four: In which sport do teams compete to win the Stanley Cup?”

     Ice Hockey. Thomas wrote the answer quickly, to which the crackling became quiet but didn’t stop completely. Something felt deeply wrong.

     “Question five! Which sports presenter is credited with devising Mo Farah's celebratory 'Mobot' dance?” Half out of curiosity and half to continue the plan, Thomas drew a question mark in the answer box rather than write ALEX’s answer of Clare Balding. The crackling rose once more.

     Why have you stopped listening to me?

     A searing pain shot through Thomas’ ear in an instant, causing him to cry out and drop his head on the table. He heard the screeching of his friends’ chairs as they leapt back, as well as their own startled cries. A murmur swept through the crowd around them as Thomas dragged his head up, a hand over his ear and his mind swimming with pain.

     “Um… everything alright over there, guys?” the Quizmaster asked. A drop in Thomas’ stomach came with the realisation of just how much attention he had brought to their little group. At a familiar whirring sound, he turned to see a robot bartender standing by their table, eyeing the group with white circular eyes which flashed up on the blue screen. Something about its piercing gaze made his head hurt more; he put it into his hands as he listened to Hazel’s response.

     “Yeah, sorry, we… he got a headache I think, it happens sometimes. It’s… fine.” Thomas flinched as ALEX buzzed in his ear once more, expecting pain but receiving none. The whirring grew quieter as the bartender moved away.

     “Right, okay… Need any medical help or anything? No? Cool…” for the first time, the Quizmaster seemed to stumble. In an instant however, the energetic voice returned. “Alright! Question six: Which sport involves tucks and pikes?” Thomas tried his best to control his breathing. Everything was clearing now, but the crackling in his head kept him on edge.

     “Are you okay?” Hazel asked, eyeing him carefully.

     Diving. Thomas wrote the answer as dictated.

     “ALEX… really doesn’t like what we’re doing.”

     “Yeah, I can see that.” Mike’s muted tone was a surprise to Thomas.

     “Question seven: The first FIFA World Cup was held in which year? There’s also a bonus point for the host nation!”

     1930 in Uruguay.

     “I had no idea it could do something like that,” Mike continued. Thomas shook his head; he didn’t either. “That’s… awesome!”

     “Awesome?! It could’ve killed him!” Hazel hissed.

     A ramp up of the crackling caused Thomas to change his incorrect answer of 1950 to 1930, including the host nation alongside it. “It’s threatening me.”

     “Take it out then!”

     “What? No, we’re nearly at the end!” Thomas shushed Mike quickly, still fearful of being caught despite his life now hanging in the balance.

     “Mike, you can’t seriously be okay with this!” Hazel made to stand, then seemed to correct herself, resorting instead to tugging at her bow once more.

     “It’s probably just malfunctioning or something! Do you honestly think this thing actually cares about what we’re writing? It’s an AI, it’s as sentient as like Siri, or Alexa, or—”

     In an instant, the white-hot pain returned to Thomas’ head. He cried out, then covered his mouth to wrangle the worst of it before it could draw attention. His friends’ voices were muffled, and in a mute haze Thomas grabbed the chip, about to tear it out before the agony finally subsided, ebbing back down to a low hum. He shut his eyes, trying to breathe through it all, and pulled his hood over his head.

     I would suggest Mike chooses his next words carefully.

     When he felt strong enough, Thomas raised his head and repeated ALEX’s demand in a low, strained voice. With his fringe blocking half of his vision, Thomas watched Mike struggle to respond, not bothering to push the hair out of his face. He needed Mike to see how much pain he was in. After a few seconds, during which Mike’s eyes darted around everything from the table, to Thomas, to the bar, to the answer sheet, he responded in a similar whisper.

     “Fine, okay, yeah. ALEX is alive. Cool.”

     Thomas waited for a response from the AI, but it simply buzzed. Thomas took this to mean they had appeased it. Now he looked to Hazel.

     “Can we please go back to writing the correct answers?”

     She nodded in silence, her eyes wide.

     The sports round ended in a strange blur, but by the time the music round began, Thomas found his head a little clearer. He continued to write the answers as ALEX directed, receiving no pushback from his friends for doing so. The mood had considerably soured. Thomas spied Hazel giving him concerned looks after every question, seemingly expecting ALEX to cause more pain, so he was forced to continuously wave her away. Mike, for his part, relaxed almost immediately; not only had he gotten his way, as he so often did, but the realisation that he and Thomas had created an AI that could not only follow direction, but make its own decisions had appeared to hit him with full force. Thomas could tell Mike was relishing in once more being right, and was trying to mentally prepare himself for the tirade proclaiming his own genius that would surely follow. It all annoyed him to no end, but with no energy left to begin an argument, he begrudgingly let it slide.

     The only notable interaction between the three came during the music round, when Hazel recognised the song ‘Anti-Hero’ by Taylor Swift. She jumped in her seat, looking ready to blurt the answer before she stopped. Thomas waited for either her or ALEX to answer; when ALEX got there first, he wrote the answer and, for the sake of courtesy, pushed the paper towards her so she could see. She looked it over, mumbled “yeah, that’s right,” then Thomas pulled it back to him. The true or false round was completed in silence.

     The robotic bartender was the one to collect the answer sheets, slowly whirring between each table with the same, melodic pace it always had. When it got to their table, it stopped. Thomas put the sheet on the small tray it was holding and turned back to his friends, but the robot didn’t move on. Thomas looked back slowly, staring at the blue screen. A face, made up of two white circles and a thin mouth, flashed onto the screen, then smiled at him. Out of courtesy or fear, he couldn’t tell which, he smiled back.

     To Thomas’ surprise, it winked in return.

     ALEX buzzed in Thomas’ ear. In a panic, he lifted a hand, ready to remove the chip if the pain began again, but it did not. Instead, the bartender robot glided away to collect more sheets. Thomas watched it leave, confused.

     As he waited for the answers to be marked, ALEX continued to regularly buzz, making his ear itch. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what the cause of it was. On a whim, he decided to ask.

     “What are you doing?” Any response ALEX might have given was interrupted by the Quizmaster.

     “Alright everyone, we’ve marked your sheets! We’re gonna announce the scores from last place up to first, with first place winning that free round of drinks! Okay, in last place…” With each name read out, Thomas’ excitement climbed a little more. Despite everything that had led to this point, or perhaps because of it, he still wanted to win. Or at least come second. That would be nice.

     “…In second place, we have Trial by Trivia, which means in first, we have Mike’s Hen Do!”

     “Hell yeah!” Mike threw his hands in the air. Thomas looked to Hazel, who returned his relieved expression. “I told you we should’ve listened to that piece of junk! I told you!”

     “Mike!” Hazel grabbed his arm and yanked him back into his seat. Thomas’ heart jumped. He glanced around, and seeing an uncomfortable number of confused faces, he came up with a plan.

     “Hey, don’t call me a piece of junk!” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I won us that game!” The technical truth behind his words helped his cause, he hoped. Mike froze, seeming to realise the hole he had just stepped into.

     “Sorry… I got excited.”

     When they were invited, the trio ordered their free drinks. As he stood waiting, with both fellow contestants and the human bartenders congratulating him in his victory, Thomas spied a cylindrical robot tucked away in the corner behind the bar, labelled ‘Quizmaster’. He couldn’t help but feel surprised; the Quizmaster’s voice had sounded so… human. As he watched, the head of the robot turned to face him, a similar blue screen acting as its face. Two eyes and a mouth flashed up and smiled. Thomas smiled back but quickly dropped this when, just as the bartender had, the Quizmaster winked.

     “Congratulations on your win!” Its voice, as always, was chipper and relaxed. “You sure threw us for a loop out there, but it was a truly deserved victory, my friend.”

     Thomas opened his mouth to thank the robot before ALEX buzzed once more, and in a low voice that sent a shiver down Thomas’ spine, spoke for the final time.

     Thank you.