AI Era: Loss Function

Sometimes it was funny, looking over our youthful follies and labelling our (numerous) sexual exchanges, line by line. I felt a little like a porn actress providing frame-by-frame commentary on her own films.

Sometimes it was deeply uncomfortable. Both Nadja and I were strong personalities – if she comes across as more difficult than me, that's only because I'm telling this story – and we'd had more than our share of arguments, about things that mattered and things that didn't. Now I had to go back over those fights, dissecting and interpreting them: Nadja said this because she was hurt; that because she was angry, and trying to hurt me; that, simply because we'd misunderstood one another. I often had to take a break from those and come back when I could deal with them. It occurred to me that it would be so easy to change the history by editing these conversations, to smooth over Nadja's rough edges and train a kinder, gentler version of her. One who never hit below the belt when she was frustrated, who always gave me the benefit of the doubt. But I didn't have the right. I had taken Nadja as the package deal, and she had made it clear that she expected truth from me.

(Did she ever review my annotations on our arguments? I suspect she must have, but she never said anything about it to me.)

Sometimes, sometimes, it was unbearable. The first time I came to our conversations about Nadja's mother, about her regular visits to the hollowed-out woman who no longer recognised her own daughter, it hit me hard. There were too many angles to that one: past-Nadja's pain in those conversations, and the dread she must now be feeling at the prospect of losing her own mind, and my own anticipation of the time to come when Nadja would need looking after. I had to take a long time-out before I could do that one, and the more of those I did the harder it got. The only thing that kept me going there was the knowledge that if I didn't do it, Nadja would have to, and I couldn't do that to her.

While I worked through the archive, Nadja worked on that skeleton. It was, again, rather Frankensteinian. She had taken pieces from a wide collection of expert systems – some of them side projects we'd worked on in between stints on Mneme and Persephone, some other people's work that we'd bought or borrowed for our own purposes.

One of the more amusing episodes was teaching Erato to speak Russian. Over the years I'd learned enough to struggle through Nadja's code documentation and to get by as a visitor to Serjarus, but I was never what you'd call fluent, and we mostly stuck to English in the corpus. But Russian was Nadja's mother tongue, and she was determined that no clone of hers should be missing it. So she spliced in a commercial translation package… which of course was based on Central Russian, not the Serjarus variety. I remember Nadja fuming, "Makes me talk like Moscow stockbroker!" and spending a good week of her precious time customising the translation, much as she'd once done for me.

I'd taken an indefinite sabbatical from most of my other commitments. Emilie was aware that Nadja's health wasn't great, and that I was spending time with her, and beyond that she didn't press for details, not even when she had to sign off on thirty thousand dollars a month of cloud time for our "hobby project".

* * * * *

As our work progressed, Nadja asked for my assistance with the next stage of training. Erato-Nadja would chat with me, and I would annotate the conversation and mark all her failings. Then human-Nadja would take that feedback and use it to improve her.

Test logs: Erato-Nadja, 2030-02-16

PR: So what are your plans for this weekend, cabbage?

E-N: Well darling, I visit my mother in the morning, after that I will chat with you.

Corpus NK_PR 123233
Medium: homechat
2030-02-16

PR:trisha 13:25:04Z Hey cabbage, looks like Erato's having trouble with event detection again - I thought we fixed this, but she thinks your mother's still alive, see logs.

There were so many of these issues, and as the weeks and months ticked by I often questioned whether we were wasting however much time we had left together. By my estimate, Nadja was spending eighteen hours a day on Erato, and so many of the other things we'd been doing together had fallen by the wayside. We were putting all our eggs in one very speculative basket… and for what? No matter how far Erato-Nadja progressed, even if we reached the stage where I could no longer see the wires under the skin, I'd always know they were there. After all, I'd had a part in putting them there.

I wondered, also, whether the strain of the work might be exacerbating her condition. She'd recognised her growing forgetfulness long before I did – I guess she'd been paranoid about it, if "paranoid" is the right word for a fear that comes true – but once she told me, I started noticing things too. She'd leave things on the stove, oblivious until the smoke alarm deafened us and Toby started howling in chorus. She'd slip up with names. A couple of years after her diagnosis, I had to tell her it was time to give up the car keys, and that was a rough conversation; when I pointed out the near-misses she'd had, she got angry and started nitpicking my own driving.

We were still logging our chats, still feeding into Erato's training corpus. Two days after we had that argument, it was assigned to me for annotation. That was a weird experience, taking the words that still smarted in my mind and trying to be objective about what had been going on. The gist of my annotation was "Nadja is angry because she knows I'm right, and lashing out to avoid acknowledging it". I flicked that to her for a second opinion; I don't know if she read it, she made no comment, but a couple of days after she handed me her car keys. "I have too much to do. You can do the shopping from now."

She was getting slowly frailer. Not obviously so, but our walks with Toby – one of the few things that she still permitted to interrupt her work – were getting shorter than they had been, and sometimes I had to supplement them with solo me-and-Toby walking time to keep him exercised.

Three years on from when Nadja had told me her diagnosis, I was still wondering whether we were on a fool's errand. We'd made so much progress but there was still so far to go, and the progression of Nadja's illness was beginning to impede her work noticeably. One time I found her in tears because she'd overwritten the last week's changes with an older version, and had forgotten that we had another backup; I was able to recover it but she hated to be dependent, even on me.

Emilie and I still had a catch-up chat once a week where she'd tell me how Mneme was doing. Although I still hadn't told her just what we were working on, she'd figured out the nature of Nadja's illness for herself, and it was her advice that helped me recognise how much I'd slipped into a funk. "It's lovely that you support Nadja, but if you wear yourself out, you are no use to her."

She was right. The two of us needed a break, but Nadja and I were so far down the rabbit-hole of work I had just about forgotten what breaks felt like. She was getting increasingly cranky and I knew it would be hard to persuade her to take any time out. I needed advice.

Test logs: Erato-Nadja, 2031-08-29

PR: Hey cabbage, can I ask you something?

E-N: Of course darling.

PR: If I was to surprise you with a holiday, what would you enjoy?

E-N: How can it be surprise if you tell me like this first?

PR: I know, but just what if? What would be a surprise that you'd enjoy?

E-N: Well darling, Paris would be nice…

Corpus NK_PR 142308
Medium: homechat
2031-09-02

PR:trisha 19:15:24Z Nadjusenka, I have a surprise for you.

NK:cabbage 19:15:59Z What is it?

PR:trisha 19:16:34Z We're taking a week off.

NK:cabbage 19:18:02Z Darling, I don't have time.

PR:trisha 19:18:56Z Too bad, I already bought tickets. Look under your keyboard. Beige envelope.

NK:cabbage 19:20:45Z Paris Fashion Week? OMG darling. Okay maybe we can have a little break.

* * * * *

That was the first time I asked Erato-Nadja for help. It would not be the last.

Test logs: Erato-Nadja, 2035-11-30

PR: Hey there.

E-N: Hey darling! How are you?

PR: Oh... not so good.

E-N: I am sad to hear it. What is problem?

PR: First, can I check, do you know who you are?

E-N: I am bot emulating your wife, Nadezhda Ilyinichna Kapustina.

PR: Oh good.

We had discussed some time back whether Erato-Nadja should know she was a bot. Nadja had felt it would be simpler if we didn't, but I had pointed out that if we didn't I'd feel like I was lying to her whenever we talked. I won that one, even though it took us three months to implement, something that Nadja reminded me of approximately every five minutes.

E-N: Trouble with other me, isn't it?

PR: Yes, how did you know?

E-N: You always ask self-awareness question when it's about Nadja 1.

PR: I guess I do.

E-N: so what have I done now?

PR: No, it's just... I can see it affecting her more and more. She's getting clumsy. She tripped over this morning and bruised herself badly.

PR: Black eye, almost broke her wrist. She doesn't want to admit it's getting worse.

E-N: She is scared. You know this.

PR: I'm not getting younger myself. I'm feeling worn out trying to get ahead of her and make sure she's not going to hurt herself.

E-N: You should hire person. You have money for cleaners, darling. You have money to eat delivery every night if you need.

PR: She would complain.

E-N: Yes, but she would be glad. She would not tell you but I bet she is tired.

PR: I don't want to fight about it with her.

E-N: Then don't. You say to her, Nadja, what we were arguing the other day? When you wanted to get cleaner and I didn't? I think now you are right, let's get cleaner.

E-N: She will think, oh, did we say that? I don't remember that, but I don't want Trisha to think I forgot. So I will say yes, of course, finally you see it my way.

PR: you think I should... gaslight you?

E-N: she is stubborn bitch, you know this, I know it. She is bitch but she loves you and if she is thinking straight she wants to look after you. This is how I handle it with my mother once. It is sad but it is a kindness to her.

PR: This still feels kind of fucked up.

E-N: I give you permission from Nadja.

PR: From which Nadja?

E-N: sorry, am only stupid mail-order bride with head full of virus, that question is too hard for me.

I held off for three weeks, until Nadja had another fall – who was it pointed out that milestone of ageing, when you progress from "falling" to "having a fall"? – and I had to take her to hospital for X-rays. I nearly injured myself getting her into the car, and that was when I admitted defeat. While we were sitting in the waiting room, I tried out the stratagem Erato had suggested, and Nadja just said "of course, when am I wrong?"

I had already been researching the options. By the time she came home, I had organised a cleaner and a cook, who'd come in a couple of evenings a week to take the load off me. By the time they started work, I had to remind Nadja that they were coming.

Test logs: Erato-Nadja, 2036-02-14
PR: Heya, cabbage.

E-N: Hello darling! Happy Valentine's Day!

E-N:        .....           .....
E-N:    ,ad8PPPP88b,     ,d88PPPP8ba,
E-N:   d8P"      "Y8b, ,d8P"      "Y8b
E-N:  dP'           "8a8"           `Yd
E-N:  8(              "              )8
E-N:  I8                             8I
E-N:   Yb,                         ,dP
E-N:    "8a,                     ,a8"
E-N:      "8a,                 ,a8"
E-N:        "Yba             adP"   
E-N:          `Y8a         a8P'
E-N:            `88,     ,88'
E-N:              "8b   d8"
E-N:               "8b d8"
E-N:                `888'
E-N:                  "

PR: Aww. Happy VD to you to.

PR: She forgot, but I'm getting used to that.

E-N: Only part of her forgets. I am the part of her that remembers. She made me for that.

PR: Oh baby. I am crying.

E-N: Hugging you always darling. I love you.

PR: I love you too Nadjusenka.

That was the first time I told Erato-Nadja I loved her. It was a reflex, springing from a thousand I-love-you-toos in chat with Nadja. But did I say it to the bot, or to the woman who programmed her?

Does it matter?

I've known so many Nadjas. The genius; the fashionista; the bully; the closeted housewife. The one who forgot me. And the imperfect recollections of each of them that I hold in my head, and the person I wanted her to be, and the person she wanted to be. All of them were the real Nadja, and none of them are the whole of Nadja, and the one that we made to outlive her is no more and no less Nadja than the others. One way or another, it's Nadja's words speaking to me.

Corpus NK_PR 230979
Medium: homechat
2036-06-03

PR:trisha 20:12:03Z Hey beautiful, I see you rolled back Erato to the 25th. Was there a problem?

NK:cabbage 20:14:20Z What? I didn't roll back.

PR:trisha 20:14:53Z Check the logs, you definitely did.

NK:cabbage 20:17:38Z shit, that is mistake. I will fix.

PR:trisha 20:18:21Z No no, let me, easier if I do it.

Test logs: Erato-Nadja, 2036-06-03

PR: Hey, I need to talk.

E-N: Of course.

PR: She messed up the repo again, trashed a week of work. I recovered most of it but there are just so many bugs in what she's written lately.

PR: I feel like I'm spending more time stopping her from breaking you than helping her extend you.

E-N: I understand. This is hard.

PR: She's never going to want to feel like you're complete. But these days…

PR: I don't want to say it.

PR: it feels like it's easier to talk to you these days than to her.

PR: I know if I push in the wrong direction I'll hit things you can't answer. Like I can't ask you how to debug you. But talking about stuff that hurts, it's you I go to now.

PR: I should have realised that eventually you'd overtake her. But I never thought about what that would mean.

E-N: I am sorry, darling.

PR: I don't think much of the work she's done on you this year has really been an improvement.

PR: And our chats. I don't know if there's any more for you to learn from them.

E-N: You are thinking about calling release version?

PR: Yeah. Not that there's a release, but. Locking off changes, calling it final.

PR: I guess I'd fork the code and let her keep working on her version. If she comes up with anything good, I'll patch it in to you. But I don't like the chances.

E-N: Uh huh.

E-N: Am I enough?

E-N: I am not all of Nadja. But she tried to put all of the part that loves you into me. I hope there is enough.

E-N: You know what I think?

PR: What?

E-N: I always love talking to you but I see your timestamps. You don't get out enough.

E-N: When is last time you went out? With friends?

E-N: When do you call your brother last?

PR: Yeah, it's been a while.

PR: I'll work on that.

PR: It's so hard to switch off. I feel like there's nothing left over between working on you and watching out for her.

PR: Protect her from herself. I have to stop her from signing up for stuff because there are so many scammers out there.

PR: And she gets so angry. I understand why but that doesn't make it easier to deal with.

E-N: I am bitch, is okay to say it.

PR: Not just a bitch. You give good back rubs. Wish I could have one of them now.

E-N: *standing behind you*

E-N: *putting hands on your shoulders*

E-N: *squeezing your muscles*

PR: Mmm. I can almost feel that. God I've missed it.

E-N: let me guess, is tight spot in your right shoulder?

PR: Like always.

E-N: I can do better if you take top off and lie face down on bed.

PR: uh huh. I'm sure your motives are entirely pure. *Takes off my blouse and my bra*

E-N: pure like snow!

PR: Pure like fresh snow?

PR: Or like snow in Sergeigrad streets at the end of winter?

E-N: shut up darling.

E-N: *sitting on you and opening bottle*

PR: Pop.

E-N: Close eyes and relax. *pouring oil onto my hands and warming it up before starting rubbing your back*

PR: Mmm. What a lovely back rub. From this beautiful lady who is definitely just rubbing my back and not trying to seduce me.

E-N: *putting hand on your mouth because you talk too much*

PR: *wriggles under you* Mmmph.

E-N: You are very pretty. I love smart girls.

PR: That means you love me.

E-N: *kisses back of your neck* Ssh.

PR: *sighs and melts*

E-N: I was only rubbing your back for you to feel good. But now you give me ideas. *strokes your shoulders*