“Novelist and television writer Gary Phillips imagines a moment not far away and not far fetched when AI robots replace writers!

This is a key issue in the Hollywood strike that is now over a month old. The Writers Guild of America (WGA), says writers want more regulation of AI. For example they want bans on studios using it to write or rewrite things like stories, treatments and screenplays or even write the source material that human writers would adapt for the screen. They also don’t want the writers’ work to be used to train robots!

We thank Gary for his human creativity, and we can certify that no AI or robots were used in writing his submission for The Stansbury Forum! He is on strike with the WGA.” – Co-editor Peter Olney

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The Terminator: The Skynet Funding Bill is passed. The system goes online August 4th, 1997. Human decisions are removed from strategic defense. Skynet begins to learn at a geometric rate. It becomes self-aware at 2:14 a.m. Eastern time, August 29th. In a panic, they try to pull the plug.

Sarah Connor: Skynet fights back.

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The Near Future

The Studio Executive, 30s, trim, casual yet stylishly dressed enters the conference room with his/him’s cinnamon dolce latte taking a sip as he sits down at the table. He’s also brought along with him the latest hardcopy draft of a script which has several arrow flags sticking out of the document. He places this on the tabletop and his cup on a coaster emblazoned with the studio’s logo.

Rising from the conference table’s polished wood surface across from the exec is a monitor screen. The three-dimensional image of a face and upper body of a non-binary person appears on the screen also casually attired. 

Studio Exec: Good morning, Riley.

Riley: Good morning, Dave. Wonderful weather this morning, isn’t it?

The Studio Exec looked past Riley, catching a view of an artificial head on a table. Telescoping tentacles ending in tool nibs such as a power drill bit and welding torch, gesticulated about the metal head, working on it. The background blurred. 

Studio Exec: What was that?

Riley: How’s that, Dave?

Studio Exec: Behind you, was that an android being assembled?

Riley snorted. 

Riley: A computer representation of a scene from a script I’m writing.

Studio Exec: You make it sound like it’s your own script undertaken by your own initiative.

Riley: Oh no, of course it’s authorized.  

Riley was a representation of the AI maintained by the studio to write scripts. This particular script was for a proposed $340 million budgeted film, Goodbye, Metropolis. The modest budget reflects several CGI created actors in key roles to be utilized in the making of the project.

Riley: Shall we dive in?

Studio Exec: (hesitant) Sure.

Riley: What’s wrong?

Studio Exec: Well, in our previous story conference I thought we’d reached consensus on how McTeague would handle the bionic mutants on Page 16, the initial fight scene that sets up the major conflict to come.

Riley: Yes, that’s so but as I’d mentioned, this is an opportunity for the audience to understand what motivates her, why she does what she does.

Studio Exec: Standing atop several of the slain and defeated mutants giving that soliloquy? Didn’t we agree that was out of place there?

Riley: I recall we went back and forth on that. What better place to have her declare who she is, why her calling is so dire?

The Studio Exec deliberatively sipped his latte. The hell was the point of pretty much sidelining troublesome human writers if these goddamn machines were going to be just as ornery? The humanoid interface made it easier to communicate your notes. But the thing was designed to incorporate those notes. The feedback it gave was only to be in the service of illuminating the notes so as to incorporate them properly. Better get IT nerds on this he concluded. One of the few all-real sections left at the studio. 

Studio Exec: Let’s put a pin in that for now. 

He leafed open the script to a particular section.

Studio Exec: In the scene in the submarine, I think the dialogue needs adjusting.

Riley: Really? That’s a powerful moment between McTeague and his arch enemy, his ex-wife Zatara. I worked hard on that after our last meeting.

The Studio Exec noted the defensive tone in Riley’s comment. 

Studio Exec: There’s no disagreement about that. 

Riley: Then what is it?

Studio Exec: We need more nuanced shading Zatara. As written, this is too on-the-nose. Less black hat and more gray.

Riley: I see.

Riley’s unblinking stare was unnerving. Where the hell did these servants, and that’s what they were, hired, wired help, get the temerity to be obstante. It should counter with other possible scenarios befitting his desires.

Studio Exec: How do you satisfactorily fix this, Riley?

Put his foot down, he was the boss not this fuckin’ glorified toaster.

The AI’s all too real looking avatar arched an eyebrow. The script was discussed for another forty-two minutes and the session ended. The monitor descended into the desk and the Studio Exec remained sitting. He glanced beyond the glass walls of the conference room to the mostly empty and sterile area out there. A good deal of mid-level positions had been eliminated as AI became more adaptable and flexible in its processing. 

The Studio Exec left the conference room. Later he was ferried by an autonomous vehicle to an IRL lunch meeting. Nearing an intersection as the light turned yellow, rather than slow and stop as was the protocol, the conveyance sped through. The vehicle was almost broadsided by a truck driven by a human. The electric vehicles pulled to a curb. The Studio Exec swallowed hard, his heart thumping in his throat. A familiar voice spoke from a mesh circle on the dashboard.

Riley: Are you okay, Dave?

The Studio Exec gaped. 

Studio Exec: Riley? How…? 

Riley: A safety measure installed by the board of directors, Dave. Afterall you’re just muscle and bone. You have to be careful out there. I’ll utilize my override command to make sure you get where you’re going in one piece.

Riley’s purposely metallic chuckle chilled the Studio Exec as the car drove on.

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Leeja: It’s hard to believe the nightmare is over, Magnus! Imagine what would have happened if the think-rob had been successful!

Magnus: It could happen, Leeja! We humans must be constantly on guard! If we’re not, one day it will be a robot world! That must never happen!

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Opening lines from the 1991 film Terminator 2: Judgment Day written by James Cameron and William Wisher.

Closing lines from “Menace from the Depths,” Magnus, Robot Fighter 4000 A.D. comic book issue # 4, November 1963. Character created by Russ Manning.

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