Keeper of the algorithm.., p.3
Keeper of the Algorithm (The Keeper Saga Book 1), page 3
Gault said it as if the remark was not boastful. As if it was a statement of fact, and Mike felt its power. He tried to maintain his composure, resisting the urge to fidget. "Understood, Dr. Gault."
A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Gault's mouth. "I've reviewed your records. Impressive exam scores. But the real world, Mr. Stewart, isn't about scores. It's about making the right calls, managing the personnel, data, and cybersecurity. It's about harnessing the yottabytes of data and the computational power of those supercomputers. And," Gault added pointedly, "it's about loyalty and understanding one's place."
Mike felt a pang of defensiveness. "I’m here to learn and contribute, sir. My dedication is to the work and the mission of the Turing Institute."
Gault moved closer . . . his presence almost suffocating. "Many doubt you—think you're here by some fluke. Some even think you're a threat, an anomaly that shouldn't exist. What makes you think you can operate in my world?"
Mike summoned his courage. "Because I intend to prove my worth to support the Algorithm and the difference it can make."
Gault raised an eyebrow, not expecting the pushback. "Ambitious. Remember, the Turing Institute is vast. Here, paths cross, decisions intersect, and those who don't align . . . well, they find themselves discarded."
Mike swallowed hard, realizing that beneath the surface of this meeting was a veiled threat. But he was resolute. "I'll remember that."
Gault's eyes held Mike's for a long moment before he nodded. "Good. There's a lot you need to know to survive here. "
"And where do I fit in, Dr. Gault?"
Gault leaned in, "Directly under me. I want you to oversee specific issues in R&D operations. You are to ensure seamless communication lines and identify bottlenecks. But remember, every decision you make must have my approval."
He paused, "This is not a mere administrative role. It requires intuition, foresight, and a deep understanding of AI's nuanced terrain. Some of the brightest minds are under this roof, and they won’t take kindly to a newcomer giving directives. Especially," he added with a smirk, "one whose credentials are still... under scrutiny."
Now that Gault had dropped his mask, Mike said with irony, "I appreciate your candor, Dr. Gault.”
Gault's eyes bore into Mike's, searching for any hint of faltering conviction. After a long moment, he said, "We'll see. This Institute is a beast, Stewart. And beasts, when not handled correctly, bite."
He handed Mike a flash drive. “This is your first assignment. Be on time and be accurate. Otherwise . . .”
Chapter 5
Assignment
On his third workday, Mike eagerly strolled across the rambling Turing Institute campus—an uneasy smile concealed his secret.
A lush green lawn and well-manicured shrubbery grew across the yard. There were imposing granite buildings and marble monuments. Symbols of power and inspiration that emphasized the hallowed nature of the institution. A few majestic trees cast long shadows down the paved walkway.
A cluster of workers chattered excitedly on their way into the administration building. They greeted him cheerfully and made him feel welcome. His future might be uncertain, but he relished the accomplishment of getting into the Turing Institute.
The ultramodern Lovelace Hall reflected an elegant architecture. It had high-arched ceilings and glass panels. However, it looked more like a corporate office rather than an ultra-secret secure facility.
Unfortunately, as Mike entered, he ran smack into Amber.
Her armload of assorted technology flew in every direction and spread across the corridor.
“Sor . . . sorry.”
“You should be,” she said, moving back, giving him a critical look. "You should watch your step, Daydreamer."
He opened his mouth, but she scowled, “Look what you’ve done.”
Bending down, she began corralling her absconding belongings.
He bent over and retrieved her tablet.
She took it from him and gasped, “Oh no! My project.”
Her fingers touched its surface. The screen flickered to life.
"You're soooo . . . lucky,” her voice barely a whisper.
Mike offered another apology.
As she struggled to reorganize her valuables, he brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and gave her an appraising look. She was attractive, though not traditionally beautiful, she had a spark—a captivating mix of youth and determination.
They faced each other in a stand-off for a long moment.
Then, with a sigh, she brushed past him. Her long stride and swaying hips captured his attention. For several seconds, he was riveted by the aesthetics of her undulating hips.
Sensing his attention, she turned to catch him watching. Then, with one more step, she disappeared into the bustling crowd.
Mike's face clouded with curiosity as he went to his assigned workspace in the main concourse. It had a barebones desk, computer, and cabinet with partitions separating him from his coworkers. There were over a hundred similar cubicles in the workstation gallery.
He went straight to work on Gault’s assignment. The task Gault gave him was daunting—optimizing data flows between the e-commerce algorithms and their human users.
Mike knew this overlapped with Amazon's territory. It meant any misstep could have far-reaching consequences. The companies utilizing the Algorithm were global behemoths jealous of their competitive edge. Any alterations he made would have to balance their financial interests.
The complexity of navigating the Algorithm's subtleties felt overwhelming. Self-doubt crept in.
After several hours of sifting through the data, Amber walked over, tablet in hand.
"Hey Michael, I heard about your new assignment. Need any help getting up to speed?"
Mike smiled, grateful for an ally. Glad that she wasn’t upset about their earlier run-in.
"I'd appreciate that, thanks. Gault hinted that this assignment is . . . well, a test."
Amber nodded knowingly. "He's tough, so hang in there." She pulled up a projection displaying a matrix of data flows. "Let's trace the decision tree and spot potential choke points."
Over the next hour, Amber patiently explained the architecture’s data interdependencies. Mike's unease dissipated, his mastery growing.
Mike realized the Algorithm made highly customized recommendations for each customer. It did this by looking at a wide range of information about each person. What products they bought, websites they visited, social media posts, and even facial expressions. Using all this data, the Algorithm tried to predict what kinds of products or services each customer would most likely want to buy next. The companies targeted customers with personalized ads and offers for those specific products.
So, the Algorithm wasn't just making general predictions about what people might want. The marketing messages were tailored to each person's unique interests and personality.
When he told Amber about his calculations, she said, "I think you've got this, Michael!" Her eyes were warm, reassuring.
Mike glowed as he submitted his optimization proposal. He was confident of success.
◆◆◆
The following day, Gault's scowling face greeted Mike. "What is this? Your recommendations are completely inadequate."
He threw down Mike's report in disgust.
Mike was stunned. "But I traced the flows thoroughly. This should relieve the choke points."
"Should? No, this will produce a completely inadequate result. The link to purchasing algorithms remains below trend. If implemented, it could compromise user data privacy."
Gault leaned intimidatingly over Mike's desk. "I thought you were competent enough to grasp the nuance."
The room turned icy.
Mike took a breath. "My apologies, Dr. Gault. Let me re-examine the connections between the data analysis and purchase drivers."
Mike redoubled his efforts over the next few days, working past midnight to uncover every intricacy. But each draft was sent back by Gault with scathing criticism.
Exhausted and discouraged, Mike confided in Amber, "No matter what I try, Gault shuts it down. I don't know what he wants from me."
Amber squeezed his shoulder. "Don't give up. I think the issue lies deeper in the data than Gault lets on. Keep digging. When you’re ready, I suggest you get help from the Data Analysis hub."
He rubbed his neck and forced his mind to return to the task. Re-energized, Mike dove back in. He began noticing oddities—slight data distortions that slightly swayed purchase suggestions. He ran simulations of adjusting algorithms to increase sales for certain brands over others.
He saw the Algorithm create immersive shopping experiences using virtual and augmented reality. This allowed customers to try on clothes, arrange furniture, and other products before buying them or to see how a product would look in their home.
The implications became clear—the Algorithm's influence was far more than just predictive.
Like an invisible hand, it could steer individual decisions.
He went to a lead scientist in the Data Analytics hub, Jonah Jensen. Jonah was of average height and appearance but possessed the wiry build of a long-distance runner. He frequently wore his AI glasses to analyze the details.
Amber joined them as they gathered around a large, sleek table in the main concourse conference room which was called the Escher Room. The main display lit up, showing the detailed architecture of the Algorithm.
She said, "This section governs the advertisement selection for North American users. It seems minute, but even a fractional improvement in ad relevance could mean billions in increased revenue."
Absorbing the information, Mike inquired, "What's the specific issue?"
Jonah responded, "From your analysis, there seems to be a certain redundancy in how data is processed. There might be a more efficient way to interpret user behavior."
Mike said, “Then I’ll explore that avenue and see if I can optimize it.”
Mike dissected the algorithm issue. He simulated multiple scenarios, understanding the ramifications of every potential change.
Finally, after countless simulations, Mike pinpointed the necessary change. It could increase the Algorithm's efficiency by 0.0008%. It seemed negligible, but it was monumental given the scale at which commercial companies operated.
Mike nodded, appreciating the support, "I will move forward, but be meticulous. Any slip and Gault will have the ammunition he needs."
With this insight, Mike presented a new proposal to Gault with controls to prevent corporate market manipulation while improving efficiencies.
Gault reviewed it silently, his expression unreadable.
Finally, he said, "Well, after three weeks, you’ve managed an adequate solution. But next time, I expect faster results. The Algorithm waits for no one."
Mike nodded, trying to conceal his relief. As he turned to leave, Gault added casually, "Oh, and Stewart, let's keep this data manipulation anomaly between us."
Mike departed, shaken by the Algorithm's subliminal power. The assignment had awakened him to more significant questions about free choice. But for now, he was thankful to have passed Gault's trial by fire.
◆◆◆
Amber joined Mike at a table in the corner of the bustling coffee room. The intoxicating freshly brewed coffee melded with the gentle hum of conversations filling the space.
Entranced by his coffee's steamy dance, Mike took a languid sip. Amber's gaze, on the other hand, was unblinkingly fixed on his face.
"Rough start?" she inquired, her voice dripping with genuine concern.
Mike's eyes momentarily dropped, wrestling with unspoken thoughts. "It's nothing," he murmured.
Amber tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You're mulling over Gault’s assessment, right?"
His face betrayed a fleeting discomfort. "Is it that obvious?"
With a knowing chuckle, Amber replied, "Only to someone who knows how to look."
Mike allowed himself a wry smile, absently stirring his coffee. Lost in the whirlpool inside his cup, he momentarily forgot Amber’s presence.
But then, suddenly struck by a thought, she met his gaze. Breaking the ensuing lull, Amber playfully inquired, "Thinking back to school at MIT, right?"
Mike grinned—a tad embarrassed. "Guilty.” Thinking of his expulsion, he added cryptically. “It was a transformative experience."
Amber raised a playful eyebrow. "Well, let's see how much you remember. How can you develop a sorting algorithm that is adaptive to the input data?"
Mike took a moment to think. "An adaptive sorting algorithm would be able to take advantage of the properties of the input data to improve its performance," he said. "For example, an adaptive sorting algorithm might be able to sort a nearly sorted array much faster than a completely unsorted array."
The mood shifted to academic banter. Each tested the other’s mettle, only to revert to the intimate space between two individuals getting to know each other.
Mike hesitated, then began to unveil a page from his past. "My mom lives on the dole. I never knew my father. Mom said that was a good thing. Fortunately, I got a scholarship to MIT.”
Amber, with a softness in her eyes, switched topics. “You seem passionate about AI."
"It's intriguing. A double-edged sword, though," he replied. He abruptly leaned back with an air of challenge. "With all its touted intelligence, why do AI systems still make so many stupid errors?"
Amber sighed, weaving her thoughts. "Think of AI as a young prodigy. It's full of potential but not without its quirks.”
"So, it’s not the magic wand everyone claims it to be?"
"No, but neither is it just smoke and mirrors," she said. "It's the future, but one that needs careful nurturing. There's so much more to you than meets the eye."
Mike chuckled softly, "Like me?"
Amber sighed. “Like you."
"But I'm a quick learner. And I'm a very hard worker."
"How did you learn so much about AI?” Amber asked.
"I've been studying since I was a kid."
"And you think that's enough?"
"I think it was a good start."
“Yeah,” She looked at him and wrinkled her nose. “Right back atcha.”
"I see," said Mike. "Well, I'm interested in learning more about . . . you.”
Chapter 6
Clear Sailing
The moody sky was a pastel palette of blues and grays looming over the Massachusetts shoreline. Then the cloud veil parted, bathing the land in the first summer burst of aquamarine sky and brilliant sunlight. As the ocean waves tumbled against the boulders with each pulsating breeze, the weather seemed a mirror of Mike's fluctuating emotions—anticipation tinged with vulnerability.
Mike arrived at the pier, catching sight of Amber. She stood at the dock's edge, her silhouette framed against the sea, as if she were a shadowy painting yet to be completed. Her navy shorts and flowing white blouse seemed to defy the breeze, somehow accentuating her allure. Captivated, Mike hesitated as if to etch this scene into his memory.
Amber's aura drew people to her as she stood with unspoken elegance, smack-dab in the middle of the pier. But it wasn’t just her captivating ensemble or the vitality that emanated from her. No, it was something intangible—her innate sense of adventure—that made even strangers greet her.
Gathering his courage, Mike called, “Amber?”
Her gaze pivoted, eyes illuminated, and lips curled into a warm, inviting smile.
“Hey, Michael. Come over here,” she greeted, her voice a mixture of teasing, joy, and something unspoken.
A torrent of feelings—yearning, unease, hope—swirled in Mike. They crystallized into a simple, heart-stopping realization: he was smitten.
An ocean wave collided with the boulders nearby, splattering them with its salty embrace. It was as if the sea itself approved of their rendezvous.
Amber twirled, an impish smile tugging at her lips. “How do I look?”
He almost said, ‘like a delightful dream,’ but settled for “Dazzling.”
Her eyes sparkled.
“I’m glad you invited me to sail,” he whispered.
Holding a basket, she said, "I packed a picnic, so we’re all set for our Sunday excursion.”
“Great,” said Mike. “I hope the weather stays warm."
They rented a skiff, and within minutes, they were sailing smoothly, each maneuver and action a thrill. Amber put on her sweater as the cool water breeze hit her. She steered the skiff with an assurance that most people kept for solid ground.
"Tell me about yourself,” Mike urged, seeking the story behind her radiant eyes.
Amber looked away, lost in her thoughts for a moment. "You know, when I was little, the days seemed endlessly bright, like an everlasting promise of warmth and happiness. I held on to that notion for a good long while."
Her eyes met Mike's, and he saw a flicker of vulnerability. "One night, I woke from a nightmare, my heart pounding. I fumbled from the blankets and swung my feet over the bedside. Even in the dark, I found my parents' room. I tiptoed and slipped into bed beside my mom."
"They say she was stunningly beautiful, a woman with a presence,” said Amber with a faraway look. “I inherited her golden hair and blue eyes. Yet, her parents were a stark contrast, all brunettes with dark eyes. She used to joke that we were the misfits of our family. I can hardly picture her anymore. But I remember vividly how she made me feel when I lay beside her. She would envelop me in her arms, hum a soft lullaby, and in that cocoon, I felt truly loved."
She paused, sighing softly. "We lived near my grandfather's home on the town's outskirts. He took it upon himself to spoil me rotten, an undertaking I wholeheartedly encouraged. He entertained me with games and folklore until my energy gave out. Then I'd retreat home, eagerly awaiting the next day's adventures."
Her voice grew soft, nearly a whisper. "My grandfather broke the news about my parents' death. They had gone sailing, and a merciless storm swallowed their small vessel. They were never found, lost to the abyss."
