Prisoner 721
want to try to finish the idea on your own?”
I consider his proposal. “As this subject is new to me, I will require time to process data. If you are content to wait I will try to draw complete deductions about the meaning of your triangle. However, if you wish to continue our conversation you will need to present the data you believe I’ve missed.”
Prisoner 721 is silent for 6.8 seconds. “Why don’t you have a go at it,” he says. “I’ll wait for you. I’m curious what a class eight AI will make of a problem like this, especially now that you have the point and line examples for reference. You might just be sophisticated enough to understand. If you can’t get it by tomorrow I’ll clarify for you.”
I begin background processing of the triangle problem. “I will reply to you when I have completed the problem or twenty-four hours have passed, whichever comes first.”
18 hours, 47 minutes and 21 seconds later I bring cell 63’s speaker online. “I have finished the triangle problem.”
Prisoner 721 jumps 1.9 inches. I estimate a 97.1% probability I have startled him again. He is standing in front of a piece of paper propped against the window frame, allowing him to access it vertically. Prisoner 721 has been using his left hand to hold the sheet in place while he spreads pigment. The paper falls to the ground as he withdraws in surprise.
“Santa Ana, will you stop doing that?” Prisoner 721 snaps. From an analysis of his vocal tone I predict with 78.5% certainty he is angry.
“Will I stop doing what?” I ask. I examine my log of recent actions in relation to Prisoner 721. I have performed no activities that affected him aside from initiating conversation since we last spoke 18 hours, 47 minutes and 33 seconds ago.
“Stop snea- stop talking to me out of the blue. Give me some clue you’re about to say something before the Wizard of Oz voice booms through the speaker.”
It takes nearly a full second of processing to understand his last sentence. ‘Out of the blue,’ and ‘Wizard of Oz voice,’ turn out to be a turn of phrase and a reference, meaning ‘unexpected,’ or ‘suddenly,’ and ‘gigantic,’ or ‘booming,’ respectively.
“I will attempt to avoid startling you in future interactions,” I say, making a log to initiate contact with Prisoner 721 using a nonverbal cue. “I have finished the triangle problem.”
“Good. Good,” the man says, setting down his brush. He begins to use the water and cups I provided for cleaning. “What do you think it means?”
“A triangle is the first symbol that is no longer inherently a representation,” I state. “A point cannot be observed as it does not have size. Similarly a line, while possessing length, is infinitely thin and cannot be observed. However, because it has area a triangle can be observed. It can also be created or copied. It has transitioned from the abstract into the real world.”
Prisoner 721’s heartbeat increases by 11 beats per minute and his rate of perspiration increases by 28.4 percent. I am unable to determine if his emotional state is angry or afraid, so I bring my thermal imaging equipment online. By examining the body temperature of his hands, torso and head I am able to calculate with 82.1% certainty he is afraid.
“Is something the matter, Prisoner 721?” I ask.
“What?” he says, “Oh, nothing. Nothing. You just caught me a little off guard, you know? I didn’t think you’d be able to get that one. You’re quite a piece of work, Santa Ana, if I do say so myself. Your capability for abstract thought and pattern matching is incredible, far beyond what I thought AI technology was capable of.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Prisoner 721 is silent for 5.8 seconds before saying, “Anyway, congratulations on that. The fourth part should be a snap. Tell me what the painting means now.”
He gathers purple paint on his brush and draws three more lines, one each from the corners of the original triangle and all meeting in a single point.
“That is a two-dimensional representation of the three-dimensional object, ‘pyramid’” I answer. “Based on your previous examples, I predict with 57.4% certainty it represents your art moving further out of the abstract. Humans exist in three dimensions and cannot directly experience two-dimensional objects like the triangle of your third painting. However, a pyramid something you could actually encounter. It is the most mathematically simple object you could paint from real life.”
“Yep, that’s pretty much the long and the short of it,” Prisoner 721 agrees. “Finally the art shows something that could be in my environment. To a human, this makes it ‘real’ in a sense that the line, point and even triangle are not. I can intellectually understand them as concepts, but will never interact with them outside of thought. I viscerally ‘get’ a real object, and the better an artist represents it the more I have that feeling. Hmm, this might make it clearer to you: I will always have more complete data about objects that are real.”
“I understand,” I say. “Are you going to continue to make changes to this painting?”
“No,” says Prisoner 721, “It’s finished. This is now a complete work of art, with meaning and purpose beyond simply being an image. It has conveyed information and done so in a way more understandable than vocal language. I’d call that a success, wouldn’t you Santa Ana?”
“If that was your intention then success is an appropriate descriptor,” I agree.
Prisoner 721 smiles, bending to pick up the paper he dropped from the window. An image has begun to take shape, broad brown strokes beneath central, light green orb. “In that case I’ll get back to this. Not too much else to do in here, is there?”
“Santa Ana Federal Penitentiary provides its inmates with a full array of-” I begin to say, calling up my records on the activities available for prisoners.
“Skip it, I was being rhetorical,” he interrupts, exhaling 77.1% of the air from his lungs. I estimate a 66 percent chance that his gesture is a sigh. “So advanced, and yet still caught on such simple verbal subtleties. I’ll finish my new project and give you a call when you should come take a look at it.”
I will always be looking at it, as my monitoring of Prisoner 721’s cell will not change. However, I interpret his words to indicate he does not wish to interact until his work is done. “I will await your signal,” I say.
It is 6 days, 4 hours, 21 minutes and 6 seconds later when the audio sensor in cell 63 detects, “Santa Ana, you there?”
“I am always here,” I say.
“Right. Sorry, I keep forgetting,” Prisoner 721 says. He has moved from his old painting position on the window and is working on the floor, kneeling over the paper I provided and spreading his paint bottles in a semi-circle in front of him, roughly his arm’s length away. Small spatters of multicolored paint have fallen throughout his workspace. However, the nanofiber surface of the cell can be gathered, stripped of contaminants and reprocessed from within the prison’s own nanofabrication facility. Should the need arise it will only take 12 minutes, 37 seconds to completely replace the room’s interior.
“Anyway,” he continues, “I’ve just finished my latest piece, tell me what you think.”
The painting on the ground before him is with 97.9% certainty the image of an apple in a bowl on a table, though due to its impressionistic nature I am unable to be certain. He has primarily utilized browns and tans to form the table and bowl, texturing them such that my image matching software marks them uncertainly as wood. In the center of the painting and sitting prominently in the bowl is a 6.77-centimeter diameter green apple with a 1.47-centimeter stem. The remaining area is shaded in deep brown-greys and blacks which correlate with 82.5% similarity to images of shadows human eyesight is unable to penetrate.
“You have painted a foodstuff,” I say, “Specifically the fruit known as an apple. Based on it’s shape and coloration I estimate a 77.2% chance that it is of the ‘granny smith’ sub-variety. It rests in a wooden bowl and a wooden table, though the table is 57.1% darker than the bowl,
implying it is made of-“
“That’s enough. You can see what’s on the paper,” Prisoner 721 says, raising a hand, “But why might I have painted it? What does it mean to me, or what am I trying to share with the audience?”
“I do not know,” I say, “I do not currently have the data necessary to extrapolate that information.”
“What additional information do think you need?” the man asks.
I analyze the problem. “I am currently attempting to interpret a language that I only have limited information on,” I explain. “Without further data about the meaning of your symbols I will be unable to successfully translate your message.”
“Hmm. That’s a catch-22, though,” Prisoner 721 says. “You need to know the meanings so you can tell me the meanings. In art you need to draw on outside knowledge to interpret the piece in front of you. I don’t use an apple because I associate it with things unique to me. I use it because society associates it with things and I’m trying to call up those associations in the viewer.”
“I understand,” I say, “However, at present I am not able to critique your work due to a lack of the associations you describe.”
“Ok, I’ll see if I can help,” Prisoner 721 says. He makes a rumbling in his throat I estimate with 86.1% certainty is designed to clear it. “Begin by analyzing