Cornerstone Takedown

“Carter, you got any gasoline by chance?”

“There should be some in the garage — wait, what?”

Bennett ran two strides for every step to the back. The table was already broken, battered to pieces, and had no further use except be fuel for a ceremony. The party needed a climax. It just made sense in the intoxicated mind of Bennett. Why go halfway and give people the expected, he thought. People only remember the tail ends of the normal distribution curve. 

The crowd gathered around a teepee that looked like a sideways Eiffel Tower. Bennett pulled out the gasoline and baptized the entire structure as people laughed and cheered. One last sober brain cell asked Bennett if this was right. It was quickly overruled by the convenience of having a lighter in his pocket. 

Carter beckoned over the crowd, “Bennett, what are you doing?” 

“You’ll see in three… two… one.”

A flame greater than Moses’ burning bush rocketed to the sky. The neon lights were put to shame by the roaring flames of red and orange. Even Carter couldn’t help but be silenced by the display. For a moment, everyone became natural; reaching back to their cave-dwelling origins, they celebrated the most primal invention man ever concocted. 

Embracing him by the neck, Bennett slurred into Carter’s ear, “This!” he pointed, “This is what it’s all about! People! People, persons, everyone together and loving over a simple thing!”

“There cops are going to come!”

“And so what?”

“So what? This is arson!” 

The wheel had begun to turn in Bennett’s mind. Carter’s house was university property. His roommate also despised Bennett for prior stunts. The track consisted of accidental holes in the walls and alleged entanglements with former lovers. 

“This is an illustration of the human spirit,” Bennett argued, “Look around! You can see the energy!” 

“Yes, yes I have eyes!”

“Carter, my Aryan friend what’s wrong? Are you getting boring on me?”

Carter laughed, “No, sorry I’m just worried we’ll get in trouble.”

“Trouble? Us two? C’mon, who started the lunch riot of 7th grade?”

“Stop.”

“Under pressure, in that creepy office of Father Buke, neither of us folded. We had locks for mouths.”

“Remember the highway robber of Walmart?”

“How could I forget? Civil disobedience! We dined on lobster and steak for a whole week. And it couldn’t have happened if you didn’t scope out the self-checkout line and I wasn’t wearing my Dad’s sweatpants.” 

“You’re right.”

“Carter and Bennett. Yin and Yang. A duo set by the law of nature that one day will take off.”

Carter’s shoulders dropped, “See, that’s what’s been on my mind.”

“What?”

“B.C. Timeless Tech.”

“We can always change the name.”

“Pause on the jokes for a second Bennett. I’m starting to think we aren’t going hard enough — like we should aim for more.” 

“I love it, but my friend, the pyramid started as one block before it became Giza.” 

“Yes, yes but you have to be there the entire time! You can’t back out on me!” 

Bennett scoffed in amusement, “I’m offended those words even left you’re mouth.” 

“Fuck off. C’mon be serious and say you’ll trust me.” 

“I’m right here, ready to put the B in B.C. Timeless Tech.” 

They watched the fire together in tranquility. Bennett and Carter had been inseparable since grade school. There wasn’t a specific event, but rather, incremental accidents when the two were either paired for a project or on the same sports team. So much time was shared that it would’ve been weirder if they didn’t become friends. 

If they had to be defined as an item, it would be that they shared ambition. Both grew up middle-class with parents who choose family life over any occupational success. Bennett, in particular, loved his family but couldn’t help but feel weak when overhearing his parents strategize their money or see his Dad bunkered by stacks of bills. The two also had similar bits of intelligence that allowed them to attend the same college. The difference was in how they focused it. Bennett, who was indifferent to the college experience, utilized his scholarships on the arts, specifically philosophy and writing. Carter felt that with the increased competitiveness of digitalization, a STEM career was required if one was to make it. Nonetheless, the two railed off each other. 

“What’s your paper about?” asked Carter on a quiet Wednesday night

“Nietzsche’s infamous quote ‘God is Dead’ and what it means.”

“What does it mean?”

“He’s talking about God as the idea, an absolute which we now no longer have. A vacuum in order has been created. So with any opening, there must be something to come fill it, hence, us.” 

“We take the position of God?”

“The idea of God where we want specific morals and virtues rather than following due to duty or societal efficiency.” 

“You believe in humans?”

“I’m starting to. I mean with guys like you building robots and A.I programs our evolution seems unstoppable.”  

Carter leaned back, shrugging, “Do you think that’s a good thing?” 

“I don’t know. I would have to be in the situation to say.” 

“Let me read that when you’re done.”

No matter the amount of credit card debt or bank statements littered with expenditures, the pair pursued their childhood aspirations. Both of their parents pleaded and begged them “to get real.” Bennett professed that he would only live on an all-or-nothing basis, no halfways. Their entire 20s were spent in low-rent apartments, scraping on $1 ramen packets. It was the two of them versus anybody. Old classmates at the bar would babble about their banking jobs and the consistency of paychecks that covered their expenses thrice over. 

“What are you guys doing?” asked Aaron Howser, Carter’s former roommate, at a city bar one evening.

“B.C. Timeless Tech,” explained Carter, “We are developing a first-of-its-kind A.I. program that does taxes for you.”

“How does it do that?”

“Language recognition on algorithmic problem-solving,” Carter pointed to Bennett, “Bennett handles the linguistic side while I do all the nerdy coding. But I’m teaching him.” 

“Ah, Bennett I see you can actually do something with your degree now.”

“How’s Emily?” Bennett shot back without hesitation. 

“Excuse me?”

Carter stepped in, “When Bennett’s drunk he just says things.”

Aaron, obviously uncomfortable, nodded, “Yeah, okay… so are you guys like actually doing that?”

“We are,” proudly said Bennett, “We are just having some trouble with the program itself.”

“You mean the thing you guys are trying to sell doesn’t even work?”

“We are currently in the trial and error process. But once we get this going, it is only up from here.” 

“So you guys are only doing programming stuff or is there more?”

Bennett and Carter eyed each other. This same question ended a week prior in a screaming match where Carter held a lamp and Bennett defended himself with a notebook. 

Carter spoke first, “We are investigating going into robotics.” Bennett turned away and order another drink. 

“Oh shit! What type of robot?”

“The one that can do anything a human can.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows, “Like driving a car.”

“Drive a car, paint a picture, even discuss the morality or immorality of abortion.” 

“Why do that?”

“Someone has to do it. Why not us?”

The eight years of oscillating between progression and recession had manifested itself into a breaking point one night. The two were completely divided in direction. Bennett, on the other side of the office, typed away code inputs while Carter fiddled with wrenches and screws. As each suggestion morphed into a challenge, the pair eventually sought out proofs on their own accord. 

“How do we answer the question?” Carter asked.

“The why?”

“Yes. Without aiming to answer that three-lettered word, we’d still be naked and playing with sticks.”

“Consciousness.”

“Well, obviously,” jeered Carter, “How do we get consciousness in our little guy?”

Bennett shook his head, “Carter, man that’s not our area of expertise.”

“Who is to say that?”

“I’m to say that! My guy, humans literally have consciousness and still don’t have a clue as to what the damn thing is!”

“Asking and answering. Someone always asks and one way or another an answer happens. There is always a solution.”

Bennett wheeled his chair over and studied Carter. Then he thought of his Dad, who worked at the same company for 25 years until they computerized his entire department. The man was left jobless at 56, an age too young to retire and too old to compete. Bennett has never forgotten that and the nights of seeing his Dad, a college-educated man, bartend and work at the grocery store to keep up with the bills. 

“What’s your why?”

Carter tied two wires together, “We invented this. We sell it. We make a shit ton of money.” 

“Projecting.”

“What? What do you want me to say?”

“Why are you so keen on the Seventh Day project? Taxabot is basically ready for launch.”

“We can do both!”

“Not with the plans I have in mind.” 

“C’mon Bennett. Who do you want to be known as? Another guy with the millionth Chatbot or the guy who created the first-ever sentient robot? Let’s be historic!”

“Fuck history! You never get to see your history, only your actions.” 

“Bennett, the only way to defeat death is through life. And to do that you must make something out of yourself — you must do something that transforms our people into the next age.” 

“Or do something that brings us back to our roots.” 

Carter’s head threw back and he scoffed, “You can’t undo advancement. Life is time, forwards is the only.”  

As long as there is a cornerstone, a piece that withstands while the entire building gets renovated, a system can last. Looking at the peninsula hairline of Carter’s once lush hair and the creeping greyness of his eyes, Bennett couldn’t locate his friend any longer. 

“Fuck happened to you, man?”

“What now?”

“Dude, w-what is this thing you’re doing?”

“What thing?”

“This-this whole overdramatic I am God, I know everything attitude. I thought we were in this to work for ourselves and make some money.”

“We are! This is how we are going to do it!”

“I feel like you are trying to prove a point.”

“What point?”

“Like… like this is good.”

“Bennett, look around you, man! Every day there is a new app, new program, new something algorithm. We are living in the most advanced age, an age of utter opportunity to transcend ourselves! That is great!”

“I don’t think so! I actually think we are devolving.” 

“No, we are not! If anything, us being even able to attempt the Seventh Day project is an example of how close we are.”

“Close to fucking what?”

“To what you wrote about!”

“When?”

Carter got up, smiling and reaching into his desk pulling out a paper. The header was titled: Becoming The Great Out of Madness by Bennett Fryder. 

“My Neitszche paper,” he muttered. 

“You asked my why, well this is it! Bennett, you wrote something foundational that night! It was this paper that inspired me and supported me throughout this entire time.”

The irony was as loud as a firecracker. Bennett shook his head, “Carter you misinterpreted me.”

“What are you talking about? There you beautifully say it is humans who must take on the position of an absolute if God is dead. Instead of following an idea of God, we must be the idea.” 

“And that means developing an evolution where humans are able to unlimitedly self-create! This,” Bennett signaled to the robot, “This is only going to box us up and ship us off to self-destruction.”

“How? If anything this will create endless opportunities!”

“The human will be gone!”

“Haven’t you ever thought that was meant to be! To survive everything we must take the next step! ”

Or take the necessary step back, thought Bennett. Just one restart could do everything so right.

For the next several weeks, each worked away at separate tables with separate plans at different hours of the day. Bennett, not delusional about Carter’s superior knowledge, gave in one day after witnessing the robot talk for the first time. 

“How are you?” It asked.

Bennett simply stared like he watched an uncensored birth, “You did it.”

“The conversations are not free flow just yet, as of now he’s just a glorified Chatbot. But give it some time.” 

Stoic neutrality had impressed upon Bennett. Seeing the wirey doppelganger awkwardly flex its hands and twist its hips was disquieting. Like a gavel banging the stand, it was final for Bennett and what he had to do for everyone. 

“Launch day!” cheered Carter as he tucked his shirt in. Bennett paced around reading his notebook, taking all into account. If everything went to plan, March 21st, 2039 would be the day the world’s trajectory leaped. 

They headed from their warehouse to the pristine corporate palace of Inertia Innovations. The company solidified its slogan, “The future in one,” with its empire ranging from servers to car production. Keith Mulvaney, founder and CEO of Inertia, was a once in a history man who conquered the game of capitalism like Alexander the Great. In the lobby, Bennett and Carter glimpsed him for a second, witnessing the famed Arctic fox strut with a team of advisors. 

The sweat beads from Carter disgruntled Bennett. An indistinguishable blend, like a fast food sauce of emotions, swirled in Bennett. Guilt, pride, and indifference all took their form. Then the secretary called them up and led them to the elevators. Before walking on, a group of five people with boxes full of pictures, trinkets, and staplers walked out. There was at least one recent college graduate and two women at least in their 50s. Bennett nodded, sealing the decision right there and then. 

“One last time.” 

Bennett recounted the nights of preparation, “You hardware, I’m software. You explain the sentient part and what makes it —”

“Adam. Its name is Adam.”

“Adam… different from rudimentary A.I —”

“How is it different?”

“The Kierkegaardian program. Thesis. Antithesis. Synthesis. This process gives us history, and with history, allows existential thought. With the thesis always remembered, Adam is able to recognize its existence.” 

The elevator bell rang, “Let’s do it.” 

Carter peacocking, succinctly presented the slides around the U-shape Congress of suits. Kieth sat at the head whispering to those beside him. Already having said his part, Bennett idled back, daydreaming of the world 10 minutes from now. 

Carter clasped his hands, “Any questions?”

“Just to make sure, for its search navigation function and basic operations it requires both a charging system and internet connection?” a lady inquired. 

“Yes. We thought solar could work with the power aspect but no panel had enough juice to sustain Adam.”

“And it is still a robot — a highly advanced computer even, so just like with your phone or laptop it requires the same infrastructure to access information servers,” added Bennett. 

“Interesting,” nodded Keith, “Before any more, I suggest we see Adam in action, don’t you say? I don’t mean to be doubtful but this is quite the development if it —”

“He,” interrupted Carter.

“Excuse me, yes, if he works.” 

Bennett stepped forward to Adam, a six-foot-tall metallic version of a mannequin. He placed his hand on the nape of the neck where the home screen flashed. Carter policed, watching every one of Bennett’s finger taps. The first step was the easiest and most exciting, sending the room into silent awe. Adam booted up, throwing his head back and twisting every joint as though he just got out of bed. Next was the damning part, connecting this droid to the wifi. Spotting more taps than what was needed, Carter walked over. 

“The hell are you doing?” he whispered. 

Bennett gazed at the back of Adam’s head. A chrome mirror of him and Carter, neck and neck reflected back. Beyond was the army of suits, once again carelessly inflicting their power. 

“Fuck it all.”

“What?”

“Intertia Innovations is home to the biggest data servers in the world, right? Connecting across networks in all continents?” 

“Er-um yes,” replied Kieth, “How is that related?”

Carter looked at the home screen to see a raw coding display, “Is that the Taxabot program?”

“Adam unfortunately is sick and has a virus.”

“W-what excuse me?”

The moment’s insanity could tear down any padded room. Bennett laughed maniacally, as though the dumpster fire was well underway, “Imagine this world without the internet?” 

“It’s impossible!”

“Rome wasn’t destroyed in one day.” 

Carter aware, seized Bennett and punched him in the face. The two wrestled shamelessly in front of everybody. 

“You can’t go back in history!” 

“That’s why I’m restarting it.” 

“The internet is undefeated!” 

For all his life, Bennett knew of the ephemeral, of his temporariness. Taking down something, whether it be a table or an institution, had spoken to him like the words of a sage. Carter represented the people who built only to setback others. Pioneering his own way, Bennett desired zero discrimination of the sort. 

There were shouts and screams from the crowd, one calling security. Twisting his hip, Bennett shot a knee to Carter’s gut, stunning him on the ground. Bennett limped to Adam, tapping away at the home screen. 

“Security — those two!” 

Bennett felt two hands on his shoulders as he typed the last key. 

“Bennett, what happened to you?” cried Carter.

“What the hell is going on?” demanded Kieth amidst the havoc. 

Slammed to the ground, chipping several of his front teeth, Bennett grinned, “Try googling it!”