"You brought that machine into contact with reality?"
Harold Finch only felt a wave of dizziness accompanied by the stinging pain and the mocking sound of the steel nails rushing into his brain from his stiff neck. He insisted on wearing heavy clothes in the summer and now felt that he was so stupid and the clothes were piled up.
The heat strangled his throat tightly from his armpits, and the pores on both sides of his neck opened under the pain of needle pricks.
He's suffocating. Look! The situation has long been beyond your control!
But that was nothing compared to the stupid things he heard Salomon do.
He's suffocating. Look! That machine is spinning you around!
Harold Finch took a deep breath and let the hot air fill his lungs. He exhaled the breath and woke up a little. "Huh - it, it...can you tell me the details?" Harold was a little confused.
He stuttered and asked, "This is important!"
It is one thing for artificial intelligence to choose an executor, and it is another thing for artificial intelligence to come into contact with reality. The executor's task may succeed or fail, but if that machine has its own body, does that mean that it
Can he solve everything by himself? In this case, Finch felt that he could no longer explore the intention of artificial intelligence. He didn't know if this meant that the machine had become a real life in a sense?
This is a very complex philosophical question, a discussion about soul and life. Life is just a walking shadow, a clumsy actor gesticulating on the stage. He appears for a moment and then quietly retreats without a sound;
His is a story told by a fool, full of noise and commotion, but without any meaning. [Note: "Macbeth" Act 5, Scene 5]
Nietzsche and Heidegger were dancing, tearing, and arguing in his mind, attacking each other with "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" and "Being and Time." But at this time, Finch still had some emotions mixed in his heart.
.This kind of emotion is more like the complicated expectations of parents for their children. They not only hope that their children will grow up, but also do not want their children to leave themselves. However, Finch does not yet understand what this emotion is.
He knew how powerful that machine was, and his sense of morality and responsibility to society overshadowed other thoughts at this moment, just like the waves with white foam overshadowed the shells on the beach.
"Don't worry too much, Mr. Finch. In my opinion, that body is like a finger to artificial intelligence." Salomon said slowly. He also licked a mouthful of ice cream and then tapped his head.
He ate a little too much, and it was expected that he would have a headache. He turned around and saw that little Lorna was also licking the ice cream with a wrinkled face.
There were no stray dogs here, and Salomon found himself summoning monsters for the first time on the grounds of getting rid of excess food.
Harold Finch saw Salomon stretching the ice cream under the shadow of the bench, and then something invisible and terrifying was eating the food bite after bite. He saw the little girl with short dark green hair.
He also touched the thing. It was some kind of dog! Finch judged that at least the dog named Little Bear ate and licked other people's hands in this way, and there shouldn't be much difference between canines.
"And I have placed restrictions on the body of the artificial intelligence." Salomon's voice drew Finch's attention back, "I am not making some kind of robot, Finch. You should remember my maid, right? I use
It is a body created by alchemy. Alchemy combined with certain mechanical structures allows that body to be remotely controlled by artificial intelligence. But you have to know that the person who ultimately controls that body is me, and I can make it happen at any time.
It stops."
"There are cameras here."
"I know, and it knows too." Salomon took out a wet tissue and wiped the ice cream stains and the saliva of alien creatures on his and little Lorna's fingers. The mystic didn't even raise his head, he said, "That body
The body has human perceptions. Vision, taste, smell, and touch. This is what it wants, this is what it wants to learn."
"It, it wants to be life."
"Yes, you finally understand."
"Then why do you need it?" Finch asked, "You have magic, money, and knowledge, why..."
"Finch, this fucking world is big." Salomon interrupted Finch's next words. He knew what Finch wanted to say. "It's really, really big. Humans are not alone in this universe. New York and London
What I experienced was just some kind of small invasion. In the future, the scale of this kind of war will become larger and larger, the number of people involved will become larger and larger, and sacrifices will inevitably be made. It can help me. If I fight alone, I will not be able to do anything.
It can't be done. So, I'll keep it safe before it loses value to me."
When the tide recedes, the shells on the beach begin to breathe the air full of sea smell.
Mr. Finch breathed a sigh of relief again. "That's good." He took off his glasses and wiped the sweat on the lenses, "Do you know the whereabouts of Root? I don't want her to hurt Samn Xiao.
."
"Perhaps Root is a madman, but in the machine's plan, Samn Xiao has always been an important executor. The same goes for you and Reese." Salomon said, "The artificial intelligence is aware of the threat. But at present, who of us
No one understands what the threat is or where it comes from."
"What do you recommend?"
"Ah, no." Salomon shook his head, "I don't know. Helping that machine has violated the commandments to a large extent. If we were to pursue it, I would be incarcerated on the snowy mountain now...luckily
Yes, my identity allows me to escape danger, so I can only provide that machine with what it wants. Unless something very important happens, I will not do anything outside the contract."
Mr. Finch raised his eyebrows and stood up from the bench. He asked, "Are you still going to stay here?"
"Why not?" Salomon shrugged.
"I want to shoot a rat!" Little Lorna stole the line, and Salomon nodded in agreement.
"Or maybe it's a person. She has to kill something. It's easier to use a gun than a spear. I've already summoned the hounds, and the hunting has just begun." Salomon said with a smile, "What's more, I still have
There is a talent that is not being recruited.”
——————————
"Hell, although I admire him very much, I have to say that he is very rude." Salomon raised one foot and shook it, half-coagulated blood spilled to the side. Little Lorna clung to his arm.
, he doesn’t look very good.
They didn't kill anyone, not even a mouse. The murder scene was the work of Frank Cassell, who had just finished his work when they arrived.
If you think having two bullet holes in your body is enough to escape unscathed, Frank Cassel did.
They waited outside the door until the screams gradually subsided before opening the door. The shabby apartment and the smell of dog shit in the corridor made Salomon very impatient. He didn't know how these people lived there.
Here, he and little Lorna passed several doors, all of which were open, and loud music was coming from those exaggeratedly loud cheap speakers.
If the little Lorna who followed Salomon hadn't made him look like he was not with this gang, Salomon might have been shot by the red-eyed Punisher when he broke into this gang stronghold.
"You need help, man." Salomon said to the Punisher. He saw that the Punisher's black shirt was soaked in blood and sticky on his body. "You look like you are going to die any second." He said.
Say, "At least take care of the wound."
"No." Bloody foam filled the Punisher's mouth, "Get out of here, get out of here, damn it."
"There are some overlaps in the people we know, John Reese, Harold Finch, Nick Fury. I heard that Reese stopped you from an action, and you broke his knee." Salomon knew.
A man like him, Frank Cassel, looked so unbeatable in front of him, but he still said it bluntly. "I don't want to stop your actions, I just want to recruit you, I want you to help me train..."
"whatever."
Before Salomon could finish speaking, Frank Cassell staggered away without even giving Salomon a look.
"Shit! Aren't you going to listen to my terms?" Salomon shouted down the corridor, but no one responded.