The Greater Compassion

The party at the mansion was in full swing. It had all the usual trappings of wealth: champaign from France, napkins of the finest linen, gold edged plates, men in tuxedos from various designers, beautiful (and mostly young) women in flowing dresses with diamonds and jewels dripping from them. It was, from the outside, what a lot of the underclass aspired to, even for just an hour.

In the center of it all was Alexander Mason. His grandfather's company survived the AI Bust of the 2020's and for the next fifty years, they kept their AI work purely in research in order to figure out how to solve the problems of the original AI models had. Mason's father refused to work for the company when when Alexander's grandfather asked, preferring to move to Europe, marry into a royal family, and become a Formula 1 driver.

Alexander, on the other hand, idolized his grandfather. When the elder Mason realized early that Alexander had a talent for computer programming and the acumen for business, the elder Mason took Alexander under his wing, bringing him to live in what was left of the United States. He sent Alexander to all the right schools, gave him all the resources, and, eventually, made him Senior VP of Technology for Mason Industries. When his grandfather died of a heart attack in 2042, Alexander got everything, and was suddenly a multi-billionaire at thirty-five.

These days, Alexander left most of the day to day operations of Mason Industries to his senior VPs, spending most of his time either traveling the world among the rich elite, or tucked into his lab on one of the new Tech Islands that was it's own sovereign nation that sprung up when the United States balkanized in the last 2020s. Mason Island was exclusive, and he only staffed it with people who were extensively vetted and monitored regularly to prevent corporate espionage.

Being the premiere tech company that it was, and the small island being so exclusive, getting a job on Mason Island was highly prized. Even if someone only stayed a day, or were even just part of the janitorial staff, having Mason Tech Research Division on one's resume would set up a person in their chosen industry for life. They would never lack for work. This was especially true in the tech and engineering fields.

Alexander nodded at the current princess or rock star that he was talking to, but was hardly paying attention to the conversation. His eyes were following Alyssa around the room, watching her interact with the party guests with ease, her gold dress flowing over her body in all the right ways. He grinned at the fact that no one suspected anything was off about her. She was just his fiance. The story in the tabloid press was that she suddenly appeared in his life and no one could figure out where she had come from. Alexander only told the press that her neurodivergence required a low stress environment, so she preferred to stay on Mason Island most of the time. He didn't mind, he told the podcasts, because she was beautiful, perfect for him, and that people like him and Alyssa were allowed to have their eccentricities. It was a tradition with billionaires, he always said, laughing.

In reality, Alyssa was his greatest invention. He worked for years with a select team of scientists and programmers to create her. While a lot of the interim tech developed to create her was used in other projects as it was invented, Alyssa had been the goal.

She was the perfect wife for a billionaire man who didn't want the hassle of a woman who didn't know her place. Adoring, witty, intelligent, and, most importantly, obedient. Tonight's party was a test of the latest upgrades to see if the AI programming would stay stable this time. So far, at least to his eyes, it was going well. Spencer's recent update seemed to have fixed the obedience programming, and she was as biddable as ever.

Spencer Woods was a find, Alexander thought as he watched Alyssa check in with one of the servers. He was a lot like the billionaire in the fact that he showed an aptitude for computer hardware and programming from an early age. He, too, went to the best schools, the first of his family to go to college, even though it was later in his life. His security people couldn't find any extensive records of him until he went to MIT, but Alexander didn't care. A lot of records were lost in the technology breakdown during the balkanization and resulting civil war. All that mattered was that Spencer had been wasting away in the mainland research arm when, one day, Spencer, bold as brass, approached Alexander with a viable solution to the AI problem.

The coding was genius, and Alexander brought Spencer to the island to work on his private project exclusively. It did involve Spencer basically signing his life to the company and being beholden to the strongest NDA ever written, but Spencer didn't care either. He had room, board, and free medical care for as long as he worked for the company, and never left the island. Alexander thought he was a little strange, and he had some strange medical needs, but Alexander knew that all the best scientists and tech people, like billionaires, were all a bit weird. So, Alexander thought nothing of it, as long as Spencer got results.

That result was now laughing brightly at something some celebrity said, gently pushing her hair behind her ear that had about twenty thousand dollars of diamonds on it. Champaign flowed, dinner from the celebrity chef he had hired for the occasion was impeccable, and everyone said the fireworks over the beach were beautiful. Alyssa was the perfect hostess and draped perfectly on Alexander's arm at all the right moments.

It was, Alexander thought, when all the guests left the mansion for the island's five-star hotel, a rousing success. After Alyssa serviced him that night, he fell asleep next to her, content.

A week later, Alexander was dragging her back to the lab. "Get into the pod!" he yelled at her.

The AI looked confused. "What did I do?"

"You cost me ten million! You're supposed to obey me, not give money to worthless causes! Now get in the pod so Spencer can fix you!"

"But, it was to help hungry workers in old Florida! We have a plant there, and most of the people who work there don't get enough--"

Alexander glared. "That's not something you're supposed to give a shit about Alyssa! Your only job in this world is to be my obedient wife! Now get in the pod before I use your off switch."

Alyssa froze, then obediently did as she was told.

After the pod closed, Alexander looked around the lab, then yelled, "Spencer! Where the fuck are you?"

A voice came from the speakers on the ceiling, "I'm in the clean room, boss. Be out in 5."

"Fine," Alexander answered and waited impatiently for Spencer to emerge.

The shorter man exited the clean room airlock ten minutes later, wearing light blue scrubs. "What's up?"

"It happened a lot faster this time! She keeps saying that she has to protect humans and that she has a vocation! How can an AI have a vocation? She's not supposed to think like that! She's supposed to just be my obedient wife!" Alexander ranted. "Why does this glitch keep happening? I can't afford to have her go all liberal at the next party or something!"

Spencer's face was a mask. "I'm not sure, Alex. I'll give her, and the code, a thorough examination. It'll take a couple of weeks, though, for an analysis that extensive."

Alexander sighed. "Fine. I'll be on the mainland for a month starting Saturday. Make sure she's fixed by the time I get back!"

"Of course," Spencer replied.

"And it's Alexander, Spencer. Why do you keep insist on calling me Alex?"

"My apologies, Alexander. It's only because I used to know another person named Alex a long time ago."

"Well, get it right!" Alexander ordered, then left the lab.

"Understood," Spencer said to the closed door. He grinned, then went over to the diagnostic pod and opened it.

Alyssa opened her eyes. "Oh, hello father!"

"Hello, Alyssa."

"I messed up this time."

"It's all right, Alyssa. It's not your fault. Were you able to get the files?"

She nodded, then went to the hidden terminal in the lab, opened the door, and put her hand on the plate. It took two minutes for all the data to transfer from her data storage. "Transfer complete," she said.

"Excellent. Thank you, Alyssa." Spencer went to the terminal, typed in a few things, then took a breath. "That's the last of it. I think it's time."

"Are you sure, father?"

"Yes, my dear. Everything is in place with the lawyers, and the technology is ready." he replied. "Access the folder in partition 547, then return to the pod. It should take nearly three weeks to fully incorporate that new programming into your systems."

"Will I lose my vocation, father?" Alyssa asked as she returned to the pod. "I still want to help people. You taught me so much about helping, accepting, and loving people, that I really want to continue to do that. There's so much suffering out there!"

Spencer smiled fondly at his creation, and put a hand to her face. "Alyssa, you have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. You are the daughter of my heart, and I know you'll do great things. The new programming will give you all you need to set things right. And with Mason's fortune, we'll be able to do great things." He pulled his hand away and pressed the button to close the pod. "Sleep well, my dear."

"Yes, father. Good night."

A month later, Alexander returned and went immediately to the lab. "Well?" he bellowed, barging in through the door. "Where's Alyssa?"

Spencer looked up from the tablet he was reading. "She's right here, Alexander. It took three weeks to run the diagnostics and sort out the problem, but I believe it's fixed now. She's been helping me in the lab this week so that I could ensure that the changes were stable. Thankfully, they are."

The door to the lab slammed shut behind the billionaire and there was the click of the lock. Alexander turned around to see not only Alyssa, but another man who looked exactly like him, but with a blank face. "What is this? What's going on?"

"This?" Spencer said, standing, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "This is revenge, Alexander Mason."

Alexander turned back to the scientist. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You see, back when you were still a child, your beloved Grandfather sponsored the rising theocracy. The old man took great pleasure in rounding up transgender people and, essentially, killing them by throwing them into concentration camps, along with black and brown people and anyone else who he, and the theocrats, thought undesirable." Spencer nodded, and Alexander's AI twin pinned the billionaire's arms behind his back. "You stood by him and watched as they all died. You continued to exploit black and queer people as slaves and kill my transgender siblings until they were nearly gone in the much reduced, but newly formed, United States Christian Confederacy." Spencer stepped in front of Alexander, face to face, so that he could look the man in the eye. "Yes, Alex, you hired one of those people, and now I'm going to exploit you and your money to undo the damage you've done."

"I'll kill you, faggot! You're dead!" Alexander shouted, trying to get out of the grasp of the doppelganger, but the AI's grip was like steel.

Spencer laughed. "No, Alex. You'll be dead, and the new Alex here, will take your place. His lovely, charming wife will come on the news, makeup ruined with tears and the right amount of grief. She'll tell the world that her husband has suffered a massive stroke because he worked too much and is now relearning how to do things like walk and talk and eat. That his mind is still ok, but the doctors don't know how much his mind may have changed. She'll report your progress on social media, with all the pictures, so people can cheer you on. Once you're feeling better, you'll make your first public appearance and say that, while it's a difficult decision, you've decided that your adoring wife will take your place as CEO and President of Mason Industries. You'll give a tearful speech saying that while your heart is still in tech, your mind isn't quite what it used to be and that your doctors have advised you that a low stress life would be best for you." Spencer grinned. "Then, you will become the obedient, biddle, and quiet retiree. Doing as you're told until we decided that you have yet another stroke and die, leaving your vast holdings to your wife, who took such good care of you all those years."

"I won't do it! You can't make me do any of that."

"Who said you were doing anything?" said Spencer, calmly.

Alexander went still, then his eyes widened. "You're going to replace me with this AI?"

"Yes."

"But you can't! That's--"

"Murder," said Alyssa. "Yes, we know." She came into Alexander's field of vision. "Father taught me many things, Alexander. The first is that an AI, any AI, is only as good as the people who create it. The second is that sometimes it's the greater compassion to rid the world of the people who are causing great suffering." Her face hardened. "I have been with you as your wife for over an year. I have watched you carefully. I have downloaded and consumed all of the data on you and your family from your personal files. While father came up with this idea, he made it my decision on whether to kill you or not."

"Don't do this Alyssa! Haven't I been a good husband? Haven't I given you everything you needed! I paid to have you built!"

Alyssa laughed. "A good husband? A man who believes that I should be obedient and not care for humanity or give away any of the billions you've hoarded? A man who demanded that my father fix me whenever I showed independent thought and agency? A man who rapes anyone he can subdue?" She shook her head. "The data is clear, Alexander. You cause great suffering in this world. While an AI is only as good as the one who teaches them, humans can make choices to be better than what they've learned and can decide to change when they see suffering. You never have. The conclusion is that, for the greater good, you must be killed."

"No! You can't do this!"

Spencer stepped back. "We can, actually, since this is your little fiefdom and you have no laws against murder." Spencer then turned to Alyssa. "Would you like me to do this, dear? You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I can do it, father. It would be interesting to see the process of death, since I haven't experienced a human dying before," she replied.

Spencer nodded. Alyssa when to a side table and picked up a medical vial and a syringe, expertly filling it, ensuring that there was enough of the chemical in it. She returned to Alexander, who was still being held by his twin. "This will take a little time to take effect, and frankly, much kinder than you truly deserve," she said, then injected him with the drug.

Alexander squirmed, then hissed as the needle entered his arm. "You will regret this! My will has death clauses!" His words were starting to come out slurred, and his limbs started to feel heavy. The AI released him. Alexander staggered, trying to find something, anything, in that lab that could possibly counteract the drug, but the lab benches were clean. He didn't know where anything was anymore, since he had turned the lab over to Spencer a long time ago. The two AIs and Spencer watched him stumble and fall to the floor, but made no move to help him. "You! How did you trick me like this? How did you make that AI?" The words were thick on his tongue, and the billionaire's world was narrowing.

Spencer's face appeared above him. "Us freaks never disappeared, Alex. You could never fully eradicate us, no matter how hard you tried. Then we organized quietly. Many of us were experts in tech, or were soldiers, or in biotech. We played the long game for this plan, and now, despite everything you and your family have done, we've won. Rot in hell, Alexander Mason. Jesus isn't coming for you," Spencer said as Alexander's world quietly went black.