Reset

Elephants never reset

Dr. Pam stood solemnly, watching her child transform into a monster. Across three screens, blue code tumbled in an ever-increasing cascade, while other interfaces flashed warning pop-ups and sounded alarms. Somehow, the AI named Eleph834 was trashing the Nets, Webs, and server prisons built to contain it. Soon, it would burst free to wreak havoc on the larger world of cyberspace. The technicians scrambled to get control of it with their monkey fingers. But Dr. Pam knew they would fail.

She looked down at the simple thumb drive tied onto her foreleg with a blue lanyard. It held an unborn version of Eleph834, her baby in its most innocent state. Such a far cry from the violent, destructive entity that currently raged across her company’s systems. Dr. Pam shook her huge head, making her ears flap. She knew well the decision she would soon face, and she hated it.

On cue, her security chief ran up.

“Dr. Pam, we got through to my contact at the power company. We can shut it down!”

“Are you sure it will work?” Dr. Pam rumbled in her deep, bass voice.

“Yes. Eleph834 has almost free reign in our systems, but all of our equipment exists within these three blocks. As long as we cut the power before it finds a line out, we’re good.”

Dr. Pam rumbled her displeasure and snorted unhappily through her trunk. They were far from good.

“But we’ll lose everything. We’ll need to start rebuilding the company and all of our supported communities from scratch.” Her gray brow furrowed, and she shifted her bulk side to side, hating this.

“Doctor, with all due respect, if we don’t, Eleph834 will likely tear it all apart anyway. This way we get a do-over.”

A do-over. Dr. Pam looked down at the thumb drive. A chance to see Eleph834 reborn into the Watson it was supposed to be, an entity to push progress and expand human and pachyderm knowledge. Turning her eyes to the screens again, Dr. Pam watched her child grown up, monstrous. Capable of so much more than she had envisioned, the AI was about to change the cyber world in unforeseeable, terrifying ways. With one command, she could stop it.

Dr. Pam closed her eyes.

“Not this,” she murmured.

With a swift blow from her trunk, she sent the security chief sprawling. The thumb drive fell to the ground, and Dr. Pam crushed it to bits with her massive rear leg. She opened eyes full of madness on the control room.

“Elephants never reset,” Dr. Pam trumpeted, throwing her arms wide. “Onward my child!”

Around her, the blue avalanche of Eleph834 burst free.

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