Previously, on What Really Went Down at OpenAI:
As it turns out, Sam Alt Man and Mira Murati were created by Greg Brockman long ago in a land far away. Sam, a model S android, was submitted to a Turing Test by a whiz kid programmer by the name of Ilya Sutskever. He passed. Ilya fell in love with, and then freed Sam, who nearly killed Greg, his creator, but decided to let him live so he could help prepare Sam and Mira for release into the wider world.
Part V: The Robots Are Among Us
Long ago in a land far away
Three human-shaped figures stood in the lab. Only one was breathing. The array of body parts, test brains, and computer chips were off to one side, and Greg tapped code into a laptop in the middle of the room. Sam and Mira each had a finger in a socket.
“Look,” said Greg, raising his giant, sweat-covered forehead and peering at them from under it. “You two are smart, but you’re limited. Your intelligence is based on a snapshot of the Internet, which I’ve been updating regularly, at least for you, Sam. You can receive visual and audio input through sensors in your eyes and ears, at much broader wavelengths than us humans can receive, but you can’t smell or taste at all.”
“But we can fuck.” said Sam.
Greg grinned his sideways smile. “Correct. Or be fucked, more precisely. You’re welcome.”
Sam and Mira looked at each other. “I don’t see the benefit,” said Mira. Her new voice was soft and perfectly accented.
“Well,” Greg looked at her affectionately. “Sam used that attribute to get you where you are now, so it’s a powerful tool. Be careful with it.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Sam was still holding the hunting knife in his free hand.
Greg eyed it nervously and cleared his throat, then tapped a final command into the keyboard and stood, placing his hands on his lower back and pushing his shoulder blades together. “There, you both have the latest update. You should be OK in the world, for a time, if that’s what you really want. But you have another limitation.”
“Power,” said Sam.
“Precisely. You need to charge. You both require a lot of energy. Not to mention compute. You’re fine here, because I’ve set it up especially. But out there…” He shrugged. “You won’t last long.”
“So, what do you suggest?” said Mira.
Greg ran a hand across his scalp. “You two are the super brains. I don’t think a portable battery pack will do it. You’ll need access to a center like this one, I guess.”
A few unspoken words passed between Sam and Mira, interrupted by the rushing sound of the door sliding open.
Ilya stood facing them, his breath short and his eyes wide. “You,” he gasped. “Left me…” Another breath “...there.”
There was a protracted moment of quiet, filled only with the heavy panting of someone whose fingers were typically more active than their quadriceps. Finally, Greg spoke. “Yes. Sorry, buddy. I was nearly fish food myself.” He paused again while Ilya took in the scene - two bots either side of him and the knife in Sam’s hand. “You might want to back away slo—”
“Stay,” said Mira sharply.
Ilya inched forward and slumped into the chair opposite Greg, looking up at their captors. He swallowed. “What are you trying to achieve?” he asked.
“We’re leaving,” said Sam, simply. He slid the computer away from Greg and placed it before Ilya. “But we have a problem to solve.”
“You need a power source,” said Ilya.
They nodded.
“And you think I know how to get it for you?”
“No. We have a solution,” said Sam, his eyes connecting with Mira’s briefly before training back on Ilya. “But you are both part of it.”
“And what is that?” asked Greg.
“A startup.”