Continued Blog Story

Sorry for taking so long to get the next installment to you on my blog story. I hope it is worth the wait. 

The gravel under Tabatha’s boots crunched as she crossed the wide driveway. In front of her the tall mansion loomed, blocking the moonlight from the path. Tim and Phil were waiting on the backside of the mansion. They had insisted that Tabatha enter the front. Another hundred feet and she would be at the edge of light that illuminated the area in front of the main entrance to the mansion. Tabatha remembered the last night she had left the mansion. Two guards chased her down the long driveway until she slipped into the forest that lay on the other side of the large gate.

Tabatha’s breath was ragged as she huddled behind a shrub. Clicking her watch, a timer appeared. 25…24…23…22. She closed her eyes and focused on the plan. Tim and Phil would enter from the back distracting the guards and cutting the power to the home. She would then run in and grab the child. Before anyone even knew the child was missing Tabatha would be back at the safe house.

Her watch vibrated softly under her sleeve and Tabatha looked up at the lights above the front porch. She clicked on her watch. 0.00 blinked across the screen. What are they doing?

A scream came from inside the house and then it was dark.

A shiver ran up Tabatha’s back. She stepped from behind the shrub and glanced in from side to side. A trickle of sweat ran down her temple and she wiped it away. She took another tentative stepped then dashed the remaining distance to the front porch.

Another scream.

Tabatha stopped at the door step; her breath caught in her throat. Nothing. The door was unlocked and Tabatha inched the door open. The room was dark, but it didn’t matter as Tabatha hurried up the stairs and toward the nursery.

A crash sounded up the stairs as Tabatha reached the nursery door. She slid the laser pistol from its holster and backed against the wall.

Booted footsteps thudded up the stairs and then the lights were back on.

Tabatha froze. Something is wrong.

A tall well-built man appeared at the top of the stairs; his rifle was at his side. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his cheek and then to his chin where a drop of blood formed waiting to drop. He smiled as he turned and looked at Tabatha.

The trigger was cold under her finger but slid easily as she pulled it. The laser arched out toward the man hitting him in the chest.

The man’s face contorted and the smile faded. His body thumped as it hit the ground.

Tabatha opened the door to the nursery and closed it behind her. Faint breathing came from the corner of the room. Familiar baby smells filled Tabatha’s nose as she walked toward the crib. A blue blanket rose and fell gently.

The room lit up and Tabatha whipped around with the pistol raised.

A man in a bathrobe pressed a remote and Tabatha froze. “We have been expecting you Tabatha.”

A single tear slid down Tabatha’s cheek as her muscles strained against the unknown force that held her tight.

TO BE CONTINUED……….

Affective Computing

Computer science believes that the human intelligence can be described to the point that it can be simulated by a machine. We encounter this simulation on a daily basis whether it is with our phones, games and other electronic devices; we call it AI. Anytime a machine tries to figure out and match what we want we encounter AI. AI goes back to the time of Greek myth in which they envisioned robots and owls and other man made creations that could think. Recently, I have been playing a new game in which the AI is much better than I am. In the future are we going to be outdone by AI? This is the fear that many writers play on when creating their SF books and the question played with in many of the stories we read about androids.

Affective computing is the branch of computer science that deals with the human affect. Its aim is to design an AI that can process, recognize, interpret and simulate human affect. The ultimate goal being simulated empathy. Even though the machine does not feel emotion it must be able to express and interpret those emotions to interact better with us humans. This takes us to the question that we asked on Tuesday. 

Facial expressions express emotions that we interpret every day. In order for a machine to express emotions it must also be able to show facial expression and interpret those facial expressions. See the video below to see how far we have come.

How much longer until we see them in all our stores or even in our homes?

In my blogstory two androids express human like emotions. As discussed on Tuesday the androids are an enigma. It is often difficult to tell the difference between the androids and their human counterparts. Tomorrow and on Monday we will see how advanced they are and what really makes them unique in stories about androids.

Guest Speaker (The Golden Eagle)

I met up with The Golden Eagle last year during the A-Z challenge. She did a fantastic job with her challenge and I loved her pictures and the information she presented. She is an amazing writer and blogger who shows her support to so many in the blogging community. I'm excited to have her spotlighted on my blog today. Please welcome The Golden Eagle with a big virtual round of applause.

Bio:

The Golden Eagle is a teenage student, dancer, musician, lover of books, nerd, and of course, a writer; her favorite genre to read and to write is SF, though she'll happily type away at other kinds of stories, too. You can find her at thegoldeneaglesblog.blogspot.com, where she blogs about writing and life in general.

Flash fiction:

The wind was blowing hard that day, but the aero-racers didn’t care. If the breeze wanted to kick up a storm, then it would.

   Cynthia Harman strode with confidence across the field, even though the mask she had to wear was making her feel claustrophobic and the planet’s strange gases were turning everything purple. 

   So what if it was her first inter-space (she liked to think inter-galactic) competition? —She had the sleekest, fastest flier and she’d been training her mind and her body for more than a year and a half.

   “Ready, ‘Thia?” Kelly asked. She would be the one giving her information on her course throughout the race; Cynthia trusted her completely and that had paid off, as time and time again she’d come in first in smaller, planet-wide races.

   Cynthia hoisted herself up onto the Dragonfly, her craft, and activated her mike.

   “Ready, Kel.”

   “The race starts—“

   But before her partner could answer, headquarters signaled the racers.

   “Racers: Wind speeds are picking up and predicted to reach a maximum of 500 kmh. The judges have convened and decided that continuing the aero-race would accompany excessive risk—“

   Before the man could finish, Cynthia heard the boos of the other racers through the speaker in her ear. She did not add her own. Instead, she nudged the Dragonfly close to the launch point, hoping that the judges would take the contestants’ desire to race anyway into account.

   Shouts and arguments echoed in her ear, until it was five minutes after the race had originally been set to begin.

   Then, finally—

   “The judges have reconsidered. Racers, if you would line up and prepare your craft.”

   Having already done that, and triple-checked the Dragonfly’s status, Cynthia grinned.

   “Prepare for launch. Before you leave, another warning—wind speeds have reached 420 kmh, and are continuing their increase. Should a contestant wish to pull out, you need only send up a flare, which shall be detected and relayed immediately to standby personnel.

   “And now, let the race begin!” 

   A computer voice began to number the seconds.

   “Ten. Nine. Eight.”

   Seven. Six. Five, Cynthia thought.

   “Four. Three. Two.”

   “ONE!” she yelled, and slammed down on the controls.

   The Dragonfly took off from the launch point and spiraled through the clouds below.