"Saving Grace" (The Scary Tapes)

Real Good AI is a non-profit research organization on a mission to find ways to make AI more accurate, transparent, energy efficient, and better overall. We are concerned about making sure that AI works for humanity. And one of the ways that we're empowering human artists is by supporting initiatives like the Scary Tapes. And if you want to support Real Good AI, Full Steam Ahead is one of Real Good's major fundraisers. We have a platform where we encourage people to sign up and to do a live stream where you, You know, you have a little progress bar on stream, raise money. This year's event has two phases. There's a beginning event, which is sort of regular fundraising. But the second phase, I think, is very cool. There's going to be a custom Minecraft server. You can only get access to the custom Minecraft server if you sign up to fundraise for Full Steam Ahead. Full Steam Ahead starts on October 23rd. Go to realgoodai.org slash FSA. That's R-E-A-L-G-O-O-D-A-I dot O-R-G slash F-S-A. Imagine a liminal space of smoke and algorithms between the real and the virtual. Tales of machine dreams imagined by human minds. A warning. The danger of unchecked AI. The darkness of the black box. We can illuminate the way, armed with the Scary Tapes. Fair warning. The Scary Tapes are, in fact, scary. Check the description. For a complete list of trigger warnings if you have any concerns about content that may appear in this episode. Inspired by my medical experiences and creative writing professor who pissed me off enough with commentary about the, quote, good uses of AI to birth this short story. You made this happen. Saving Grace by Blake Bowen. Pacing. She had been pacing so long her heels. Her ankles were numb under her socks and shoes. They matched the rest of her scrubs, light blue, indicative of her station as a resident, one of a handful who survived the surgical program long enough to be pacing in the sanitation room. She was left with a kind word from the nurse who escorted her, left counting down the minutes to her final proficiency and staring out the glass into the surgical field. She could see the pasty white chest and belly of her patient beneath dark blue tarps, the kind of color she would wear if she passed. There were trays of paper. There were trays of silver instruments polished to perfection neatly placed around the operating room, sharp enough to nick the most delicate structures. She thumbed the scar on her right palm. A metal tree was fixed next to the patient's head, loaded with bags of fluid. A white box with a red cross outline sat next to it. In medical school, jokes and rumors circulated about "the blood box" being the biohazard equivalent of jungle juice. The walls were so blindingly white she wondered if they ever saw a drop of blood, nausea swelled up from her stomach. Saliva coated her mouth with that uncomfortable tingle in her jaw. She pressed her fingers against her neck and felt the racing pulse beneath clammy skin. "Sick," she whispered under a pale blue mask. "I must be sick." If ever there was an excuse to postpone, this surely was one. But if she cancelled, she would be stuck in her light blue scrubs. She would have to do this all again. She braced her hands on the large sink and pressed all her weight against her arms. Her chest felt hollow and too full at the same time. "I'm going to have to do this all over again," she said. "I'm going to have to do this all over again." "I'm going to have to do this all over again." Like she had too many ribs, but her lungs were non-existent. She flicked the sink on with hot water for the umpteenth time and wished she would burn away the sweat on her fingertips. "I can't run. I can't run." With a push away from the sink, she glanced at the timer above the door with its big red numbers. Two minutes. Two minutes away from her final proficiency. This next exercise could determine everything. It would determine everything. She would wear that navy blue once she stomached her anxiety. That was all it took. Her visions were ruptured through as a sharp blaring filled the sanitation room, almost causing her heart to pop in her chest. A voice crackled through the speaker embedded in the ceiling as she rushed to glove her hands. They were raw, left a bright pink from intense scrubbing. "Dr. Emily Fatal." She let out a startled yelp before clamping her lips shut and staring at the grey, crackling circle. "Please exit the sanitation room to begin the procedure." The resident Emily sucked in a breath like it would give her the strength to push the door. The door opened under the smallest force. Still, she was careful to push with her shoulder rather than her hands. A sterile field is a blank check for bacteria, as Dr. Oswald would say. Except the sterile field had a scent that burned more than shots of Everclear and left Emily twice as light-headed. Entering the room was like willfully staring at a flashbang while walking on stage for a solo recital. While Emily's eyes burned, it was nothing compared to the searing stares that came from above. Five glass panels made up the hexagonal auditorium angled down to view the patient's eyes. The way the room looked to Emily's eyes was like she was staring at a flashbang while walking on stage for a solo recital. Emily couldn't make out any faces, familiar or otherwise. There were only the closely packed-in shadows looming behind the glass Emily craned her head back to see. She wondered if this was what everyone saw. Had she been a faceless figure nestled comfortably in the cushioned chairs behind those panels? Witness to when another resident willed themselves not to fall apart under the limelight? Another speaker blared to life, this time clearer. Sharp breaths came through in static clouds before the man behind it cleared his throat. "Dr. Fatal, our sincerest congratulations for making it to your final proficiency. You have us navies rooting for you." Navies. An insider nickname. A taste of her future. Emily salivated at the vision of those dark scrubs and their soft newness. "As a courtesy, we'd like to remind you of the rewards previous scores have granted, which you may implement at any time." Emily had to swallow the product of her daydream. "You have a thirty-minute time extension, an autonomous android assistant available for ambient tasks that don't require cognizant processes. No question you may direct at the doctor's presently observatory. Do you have any questions?" "No." "Would you like to implement any of your rewards at this time?" Saving as many as she could would mean a higher starting salary. Emily needed the boost if she wanted to pay off her loans soon. "No. Not at this time." "We admire your tenacity." The speaker weaselly chuckled before clearing his throat again, like he was reminded of what he was supposed to be doing. "The patient has been temporarily stabilized from a type A thoracic aortic dissection and is rapidly losing blood. Your time limit is one hour." "One hour? That wasn't enough time to repair a tear in the aorta." Emily bit her tongue beneath her mask. She needed to save the supports. "As the main component of your proficiency, you will utilize the artificially intelligent aid at your disposal for guidance. Your time starts once you engage Grace." "Yes. Grace." Emily felt the tidal wave of nervous sweat cool against the back of her neck. Her chest loosened enough for a comfortable breath. Grace, a legendary assistant for an impossible scenario. Her saving grace. She lowered her gaze to dart across the room until she found a single standout among the uniform walls. A simple metal shelf with a short lip was screwed into the wall opposite of her and the patient. Sat on that simple metal shelf was a glass rectangle, left there like someone forgot to place a window. This singular, long, razor-thin stretch of glass came with beveled edges so polished Emily almost mistook it for part of the ivory tiles. She expected more from something so commonly idolized by attendings and professors. Maybe she imagined some kind of suspended screen with a digital screen. Or maybe she envisioned a mobile camera rigged up to guide rails on the ceiling. Anything but a plain glass that caught her faintest reflection. Emily would have steeped in her disappointment if the vital monitor didn't abruptly dip. She all but launched herself at the patient. She crashed against the operating table, slamming her hip against the metal hard enough to feel bone meet it. She was already palming the tray for the scalpel when she looked at the monitor and its conundrum of spikes and shorthand. "Sterile before slicing. Sterile before slicing." "Sterile before slicing." She chanted under her breath. Emily dropped the scalpel back onto the tray and instead lunged for the iodine bottle. "Grace." A sharp buzzing filled the air. In an abrupt burst of pale blue light, the pristine glass slate displayed one hour in large numbers. "Hello, Emily." The resident almost jumped out of her skin as the trill of a high-pitched synthetic voice reverberated through the surgical field. She dumped half the iodine bottle onto her patient as a result and it soaked into the cloth guard covering the rest of her body. Emily glared up at the glass. She found the time had shrunken to fit in the top right corner, and Grace had her first words displayed in large text. Emily blinked away her resentment. "Tell me what's happening to him." Grace's polished plane suddenly appeared with the same order below its greeting, "Tell me what's happening to him" in a soft gray text. A loading circle appeared for a few seconds. Emily was reaching for the scalpel again. "The patient is losing blood internally, resulting in low blood pressure." "So what do I do about that?" "You should put down the scalpel, Emily." Emily felt ice trail down her spine. Grace could see her. "Blood loss occurs rapidly during type-A aortic dissections. Set up the blood transfusion before you make the first incision." Hands shaking, Emily set the scalpel aside and darted around the surgical table to the white box with a red cross. She fumbled with the latch, trying to pry it open and half expecting to find blood lapping at the walls. The bags were a pleasant surprise she didn't have time to feel relieved by. "Find the most prominent vein on the patient and carefully insert the needle to complete the transfusion." Grace's voice sounded more solidified, like a single person was speaking, not a chorus trying to harmonize. Emily almost dropped one of the blood bags as she was hanging them on the metal tree. "Right. Okay. Phlebotomy 101. I know this." She murmured beneath her mask. Emily cast a glance at that stretch of glass. How could it see her? The room was so blindingly white that cameras should stand out. Maybe Grace was really a person. This was a proficiency. After all, they were known to be full of curveballs. With a few attempts and still shaking hands, Emily sank the needle into her patient's arm through a thick vein. She wondered what she looked like from the observatory above. She was staring at the vital monitor despite the minutes ticking by, gnawing on her bottom lip and holding her eyes open too wide. She must have seemed like a statue to anyone there to witness. A statue with shaking hands and twitching fingers, an eerily still posture because she was too scared to let out a breath. Like exhaling could break off the needle in his arm. Like leaning over would rupture the rest of his aorta. The siren-like beeping digging into her ears settled into a slower rhythm. Her stomach was twisting in knots. Those vitals still don't look good. Emily glanced at the timer again. Fifteen minutes were gone. Fifteen whole minutes. Her heart jumped to her throat. Do I grab the scalpel now? Yes, Emily. That is the next step of this operation. Take the scalpel with a steady hand and begin the first incision down the patient's chest. You will need to retract the skin as well. Emily raced back around to the instrument. She could not hold it back. She took the instrument tray and snatched the bladed tool. It was still warm. She pressed the thin metal against her patient's chest. The lightest pressure had scarlet droplets blooming along the skin. Sirens blared from the monitor again. Shit. Try as she might, Emily couldn't decipher the mashup of symbols on the screen. They were nothing more than footnotes in a lecture or textbook and staring at the scrambled lines wouldn't accomplish anything. She had to rely on the tools she had and that was Grace's instructions. Every doctor in the atrium accomplished this same thing. Why was she hesitating? Grace, I don't know what I'm looking at. Do not panic, Emily. That's why I am here. The patient's vitals are worsening because of inaction taken on the aortic tear. Let's fix that. Continue your incision along the chest until a few centimeters above the navel cavity. The calm indifference didn't assure the resident much. That seems like too big of an opening for a heart problem. I understand your concern. Such a large incision poses risk of faster blood loss, but is a reasonable action to gain access to the aorta. Confidence in your heart is a must. If you are in a situation where you are in a situation where you are in a Your actions and my instructions will increase the success of this operation. Do you trust me, Emily? What reason did she have not to? Yes? Continue the incision. Emily wiped the sweat from her forehead with her wrist and braced the scalpel against her finger. She sucked in a deep breath that settled like a rock in her chest. Hundreds of residents had done this before her. Hundreds of success stories. She would be another tally to the score. One way or another, Emily intended to be a Navy. That silver blade glided down the patient's midriff with an unnatural fluidity, splitting pale skin into a scarlet cavern filling up with crimson rapids. Subcutaneous fat layers blossomed open under a hair's pressure. Perfect droplets spilled down the curves of a pale stomach and slowly trailed into the navel. Emily's breathing never felt so even or easy. It was all so effortless. Done, she murmured in breathless reverence. Well done, Emily. You are on the path to completing proficiency. This is more than success. You are blazing a trail to victory. The resident looked up to read Grace's words, like she misheard the encouragement. Now that the patient's cavity is open, we have easier access to removing obstacles. Use the retractors to keep the layers of tissue from touching. Then begin removing minor structures and connective tissues so there is more visibility. The retractors were easy enough. Their large silver clamps tightened onto the surgical bed nicely and held the incision open. Grace was encouraging. The feminine voice assured Emily the procedure was. going well, that the resident was performing beyond expectations. All that was left was to ease out the organs. The first one, the liver, was warmer than she expected. Heat seeped through her gloves. Blood trailed onto her scrubs. Iron permeated the air. Emily shook. So many years with hands buried in cadavers left a certain impression, an idea that life didn't have warmth. The liver was slippery as she held it in one hand, the other severing traces of connective tissues with the bloodied scalpel. She cradled the dark, orange skin around her neck. It was a dark organ until it was laid to rest in a metal pan. Emily was cautious of the gallbladder. Next was the stomach. Thirty minutes had passed. I never thought I'd be doing this. She muttered. Her lips felt raw brushing against the mask. I mean, I knew I'd be a doctor. I knew that when I was little. But not this. Not an hour for major surgery. Not taking out organs. Grace's screen formed another loading circle. Tell me more, Emily. The resident dabbed sweat from her brow. I grew up by thorn bushes at the end of my neighborhood. They were castle walls or snowball forts, or shelter from the setting sun. It sounds like you had a truly creative childhood, Emily. More than a speculative fantasy world. You made reality what you wanted. Yeah, sure. But even then, thorns were always there. And they always left a mark. I was the fastest runner, so I was sent for bandages. Joy I felt in wrapping a knight's wounded knee, disinfecting a snowy adversary's grazed hand. Emily had an absent smile that remained. Her wrinkled the corners of her eyes while connective tissue split beneath her blade. I knew I'd be a healer. Grace made a soft humming sound, as though being thoughtful. It seems like you have found your calling, Emily. It's great you found yourself somewhere as noble as the medical field. Together, I know we can do some amazing things. Noble. It seemed like such a specific word. Something good. Something selfless. Something heroic, even. Sacrificing one's own needs for intensive surgeries. Emily knew several surgeons who would go as far as to take care of her. She had the skills to insert catheters just to avoid taking a bathroom break. Doctors were always heroes. The medical field was perhaps the closest one could get to divinity. To flattering God through imitation, according to her mentor. I hope to do something great. She murmured. Something beyond expectation. I want to be exceptional in a way that even the top dogs marvel at what I've done. Even Dr. Oswald. He spent so much time teaching me. I want to impress him. It sounds like you want to be truly original, Emily. And to have incredible training. To be able to drive to accomplish your goals for those you admire. The perfect setting for that quality to blossom is the medical field. New innovations are underway every day. And you can be a part of those expanding horizons with your ambition. But how could she get there? To do something unprecedented didn't require the innovation of something already extraordinary. It forced the beginning to be blank. Its only prerequisite was the unknown. And yet, Emily didn't know enough to know the unknown. Everything was laid at the feet of a generative resource like Grace because it was utterly unreasonable for a person to simply know. Why be concerned with a specialty when step-by-step instructions were fed from screen to brain? Emily bit her bottom lip again. Something wasn't sitting right with her as the scalpel eased through various layers. Why was her comprehension so brittle in the midst of holding a life in the pendulum of her hands? She lacked but the basic knowledge of anatomy. A resource like Grace wouldn't be available in emergencies outside of a hospital. How could anyone be a healer if there was no inherent understanding of how to heal? If she was a doctor, what would she do? Why did her knowledge stop before the patient care began? The monitor was beeping again, loud and blaring, like the whole orthopedic swing drilling into her ears. Emily ripped away from her comforting memories, scalpel gripped like a lifeline. She stared at an array of metal trays sat on her patient's body, each housing dark reddish organs, and Grace's loading circle screen in the background. What's happening now? I can see your concern, Emily. The patient is rapidly losing blood. Quickly use suction to clear the abdominal cavity. And hang more blood. Then we can work to repair the aorta and replace the patient's organs. Stay calm, Emily. You are more than a resident. You are the future of the medical field. Emily sprinted around the operating table and yanked the curved plastic into position. It made a sickening slurping noise that would have horrified the resident if not for the adrenaline running through her. Anything to get that damned alarm to stop blaring. The blood was drained out of the body cavity. Next, she slung another two blood bags onto the metal tree and hooked them onto the patient's IV. Peering into the abdominal cavity yielded. nothing. The aorta laying on top of the T5 to the T12 spinal vertebrae was an awe-inspiring sight, but it gave her nothing to work with. There was no damage here. No aortic dissection. That could only occur in the heart. Emily's brow creased with rapidly growing concern. Grace. Her breath was thick and heavy behind her mask as Emily tried to keep her voice level. Why did you have me cut down to his spinal column? You should have a clear view of the aorta with the patient's non-target organs removed. Wailing sirens became the last of Emily's worries. A shrill, piercing ring filled her ears, competing with the achingly strong heartbeat slamming against her chest. Everything inside her felt twisted up and squeezed like when her mom wrung out a towel. She was going to throw up. Forty-five minutes had passed. No. No. Grace, I needed access to the tear in his aorta, not the whole fucking abdominal cavity. Fix this! I can see my error. Let's work on resolving this together, Emily. The patient is losing more blood due to trauma incurred by the removal of his vital organs and exacerbation of the aortic dissection. Let's address the vital organs first. Replace them into the abdominal cavity. Just put them back? Emily asked the machine incredulously. She watched the loading circle with a quickly fading patience. My patient is dying because of your miscalculation. Say something more useful. Despite her demands, the loading circle persisted. Emily wanted to scream. An assistive machine unable to provide a solution to its own mistake? Something in that had to be an oxymoron. How could it understand the gravity of the situation? Because it was programmed to? Emily had her doubts about the success of quantifying the weight of a human life into code. It almost made quitting her residency seem worthwhile. However, education was expensive. The debt relief kept Emily loyal to completing her proficiency. Pride committed her to saving her patient. Time. I need more time. Emily jerked her head up to the observatory glass panels. I need more time. The speaker's voice crackled through the air. Are you requesting your half hour extension? Yes, and. Emily grit her teeth. So what if it took a few more years to pay off her loans? She would still be in Navy with a paycheck. And the android, too. A mechanical hissing filled the sterile room as two tile panels slipped out of place with the sound of grating stones. Within resided an android. Humanoid in shape, a small speaker for a mouth and two lenses for eyes. It was slightly clunky with storage modules on its shoulders and back. An older model meant for the outside world, but it would do. Anything was better than another misleading piece of advice from Grace. Emily watched the optics slowly blink with a blue light and snapped her fingers to signal its attention. Android ITC-03. Available for non-cognizant remedial tasks. Ready to assist. Run suction independently of my movements and monitor patient's blood intake. She barked, nearly crashing into a rolling tray as she ran around the operating table again. I have to replace these organs to prevent failure, or do I focus on getting to the heart first? The android rolled along the floor with its singular wheel, dutifully taking the suction into a clawed hand and focusing its limited efforts to minimizing blood loss. Emily bounced between reaching for the scalpel or the organs. If the heart was left unattended, the aorta was likely to rupture, and her patient would bleed out in minutes. If the organs were left out much longer, their temperature blood supply would drop, and her patient would suffer massive organ failure before dying. Neither outcome looked good. You! Emily jabbed a bloodied finger at the glass. You did this! Tell me how to fix it! Let him die. Let. Him. Die? It's clear you have a strong desire to become a doctor, Emily. From your childhood as an imaginative aid administrator to your current position in this proficiency, you have everything it takes to reach your full potential as a healer. It is important to consider the impact of charging the hospital more money by using unnecessary resources. Trust me the way you trust Dr. Oswald, Emily. We share the same goal. She could hear the creak of her teeth grinding. She could hear the creaking of her teeth. Dr. Oswald nodded. He wore a beaming grin. Grace is in every corner of this facility. Her only limitation is neurology. The subject is still too complex even for the best in the field, and she requires further training. The entire facility. She stared at him with utter astonishment, not in awe or intrigue, but disgust. The way he spoke of Grace sounded like reverence, as if the machine whose instructions killed a man could do no wrong. As if Grace were human. Hello, Dr. Fatal. She shuddered. Goosebumps rose along her arms. Emily tried to shake off the tremor that invaded her hands. She already resented the title. What you said before, sir, I don't think it can be blamed on me. Emily grimaced at how weak her voice sounded following Grace's appearance. My proficiency required Grace's instructions. The man nodded along. Of course it did, Emily. It's completely unreasonable for any one person to recall all the information needed for surgery, let alone the thousands of variations for each one. Implementing Grace into the program ensures residents like you can work with that powerful of a resource. Powerful? She spat out the word. It was wrong, Gil. Why instruct me to cut down to the navel? Why say to remove vital organs? None of that involved a tear in the aorta. Grace's loading circle pulsed. I can see my error has caused great distress. Dr. Oswald folded his hands. If there was a problem, why didn't you say something? Why didn't you say something? That is such a cylindrical argument. You know it. If I argued about a requirement, I would have forfeited my chance. And you told me to trust it. Emily rocketed out of the chair. It clattered onto its side as Emily paced the short distance from Dr. Oswald's desk to the window between the bookshelves. The sleek glass outlining the city reminded her of Grace's glass screen. How deeply was this product of ill-conceived convenience rooted in the world? How many buildings on that horizon were constructed under artificial guidance? How many natural disasters, before they discovered flaws within the infrastructure? A record storm season? Fault line fractures? A single hurricane? The scale of just the possibility made her feel hopelessly small. Emily longed for a few minutes ago when she thought Grace was contained to a single OR. She leaned her head into her hands. "We all make mistakes under pressure, Emily." Dr. Oswald tried to broach the conversation again. "It can't be under pressure, Gil. It can't be anything more than a program. Ones and zeros can be deleted. "Emily let out a sporadically shaky breath. "It should be deleted." "Deleted? How can a girl be so radicalized in only an hour and a half?" "When you send her into a room to kill a man!" Dr. Oswald collapsed back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his crooked nose. "By God, Emily! You did not kill a man!" "You're right." Emily breathed. "Grace did. And if Edward Corbin's family files for wrongful death, I'll testify to that." Grace lit up on the screen again. "Jay Harrison vs. the People laid the foundation for the protection of artificial intelligences in the health service industry that has since been expanded to include FFS, VBC, VPC, and virtual care." He looked over the rim of his glasses at the woman. "AIs cannot be found liable in a court of law, Emily. It is a faultless situation." "How can it be faultless? It's called intelligence. If you're going to give it a title, it should be held to that standard." "We are the creators now!" Dr. Oswald erupted from his chair. His arms flung in the air. Like if he was louder than her, he was smarter than her. "We have built something perfect in our own image, just like God! Instead of standing before our maker, we will stand beside him!" Emily stared at him incredulously. "We are flawed, Gil. If a perfect God made us, and we are flawed, what makes you think anything humanity makes will be remotely good?" Dr. Oswald leaned forward. She heard his knuckles crack under his weight. "I think you're time with us. Intelligence has come to an end, Emily." Emily looked over at her mentor's hardened expression. "Only the dead will see the end of this if you get your way." For once, the prospect of losing all chances as a doctor didn't frighten her. Emily didn't want to be a doctor if this is what it took. If complete disregard for right and wrong were the only requirements to treat the sick, she would rather see the system dismantled. She would rather see her own hands reform it. Maybe that desire to do something beyond expectation meant eradicating every expectation. "I'm sorry. It's okay." She turned for the door. "Maybe it's not such a loss." Dr. Oswald drew his finger down the base of his Lasker Award thoughtfully. "We could always use more people like you, Emily." She didn't hear his footsteps. She didn't hear him pick up the award. She didn't even hear the crack of her parietal bone before her body crumpled. It hit the ground and settled like a heavy stone in water. Dr. Oswald dropped the award with a dull thud. Blood rubbed off the dented corner under the carpet. He used a shiny shoe to roll Emily over by her shoulder. The woman groaned. Blood trickled from her nose and down her cheek, more warm and more comforting than the blurry face of her mentor as he knelt beside her. "You were promising, Emily." Dr. Oswald took one of her hands into his and squeezed it gently. One of her fingers twitched. Emily squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to find stability in her surroundings. He cradled her hand within his. Dr. Oswald pulled out a pair of scissors and dragged it across his neck hard enough to draw blood. Emily barely registered the pressure of his skin beneath her nails. "More of a waste than old Eddie. See, he wanted to speak up like you, dear. All these years and the man suddenly grew a conscience, but we couldn't have that. Grace's programming has just started really advancing." He ripped open the top two buttons of his shirt and yanked at the lapel of his blazer. "She did some impeccable work with you. Made you share that cute little childhood story and all. Don't worry, though, dear. I'll ask Grace to make your operation painless as the least I can do. As a courtesy for your sacrifice." The doctor disheveled his gelled back hair. Emily managed to pull one of her legs up with a pained whine. He tilted his head as he studied her contorted expression. "Navy would have been a good color on you, Emily. A very good color, indeed. I truly regret to see so much potential wasted. You were always my favorite." Dr. Oswald shook his head. Dr. Oswald squeezed Emily's shoulder as her eyes rolled back into her skull. Black fog seeped into her vision. "Grace will do right by you," he vowed as he tucked a bloodied strand of hair behind her ear. "Won't you, girl?" Another pulsing circle appeared on the screen. "Certainly, Dr. Oswald. Painless as requested." The man gave a satisfied nod. "I do hope you understand, Emily. I can't have anyone thinking you were innocent in all this. I'll make sure your family knows. It was a mental break." He leaned back and let himself fall onto his side like he had been struck. Dr. Oswald drew in a deep breath, and his echoed howling was the last thing Emily heard before black spots engulfed her completely. "Help! Please! Someone help!" For a long while, the darkness refused to fade. She wasn't sure how much was a dream, how much was catatonia, or if it was all a nightmare. At first she tried to blink. She tried to lift her hands to rub her eyes. Nothing happened. It didn't matter how hard she tried, Emily couldn't get her eyes to open. A persistent ring pressed in on her ears to the point she thought they might bleed. Her jaw ached. Her tongue was dry, yet she tasted the warm plastic forcing it open. The ache in her throat was a relentless assault against her barely conscious body. Pressure wormed its way through her nasal cavity. Her chest rose and fell on its own. Her whole body felt like a balloon, one large and horribly cold balloon that was filled and empty without a trace. It was nothing like the pulsing ache that thrummed against the back of her skull. It felt like she laid there for hours, begging her arms, her legs, or even a finger to move. Nothing so much as twitched. Every attempt to make a sound ended in a weak groan that blended into the machinery. Emily was effectively paralyzed. Was this what Dr. Oswald did to Edward Corbin? Was this what happened to anyone unwilling to play along? No. At this point, she heard familiar rhythmic beeping beside her head. A vital monitor. Emily heard when her pulse jumped. She heard when the hinges of a door squealed with movement. She heard the quick steps and anxious breathing of a person nearby. A speaker crackled from above. Dr. Vita, our sincerest congratulations for making it to your final proficiency. You have us navies rooting for you. Navies? Emily thought she might puke into the ventilation tube. As a courtesy, we would like to remind you of the reward's previous score. Dr. Vita, congratulations on making it to your final proficiency. have granted, which you may implement at any time. A 30-minute time extension, an autonomous android assistant available for ambient tasks that do not require cognizant processes, and one question you may direct to the doctors present in the observatory. Do you have any questions? Um. A quiet, mousy, little voice trembled in the silence. No, I don't believe so. Would you like to implement any of your rewards at this time? Emily tried to scream. The only sound she made was swallowed by the equipment inhaling for her. No, not right now. We admire your tenacity. The speaker wheezingly chuckled. Was it a recording? Was it a script? The patient has been temporarily stabilized from a parietal skull fracture and is experiencing severe brain swelling along with internal blood loss. Your time limit is one hour. One hour? The new resident breathed. As a main component of your proficiency, you will utilize the artificially intelligent aid at your disposal for guidance. No. Your time starts once you engage Grace. There you go. That was really good. Thank you, guys. well written i'm depressed now and that was the first of how many scary tapes i will be reading a thing right uh yes there will be five every friday for uh the entire month of october you will have uh five scary tape stories coming at you well honestly all very different from this one but all equally as uh exciting to read and well written yeah well done blake thank you blake for authoring such great story i think the thing about this one for me is it feels kind of too real it does actually like i don't think that exact scenario in like a surgical room is happening i hope that's not happening i don't think that that's happening anywhere in the real world but like i i have absolutely walked into my doctor's office and had to sign waivers and stuff where they were like well we're using you know ai to record your visits now so your doctor can use that for charting purposes or whatever this this one is this one already feels like that's starting to happen i also really like the nods the m dashes and the uh the nods to the way that grace reacts to stuff which is just he's dying and the ai is just like what's a great point this is more than success you are blazing a trail to victory yeah yeah if you're confused what this is because you're just a distract ballista and you don't somehow missed us talking about it previously uh this story and the rest that are going to follow are the result of a writing competition um the theme of the writing competition was speculative ai horror speculative meaning it doesn't have to be real doesn't have to be what currently is happening but it's like where where is ai heading it has to be based on real issues around ai real concerns or real technology but like speculating you know how that's going to develop and obviously this story is an llm right i think everyone has seen funny interactions with chatbots and has potentially been you know forced to use them at work or whatever but uh i guess if you don't know what real good ai is we've talked about it a bunch but it's an ethical ai non-profit to really check it out it's pretty neat co-founded by mark and mandy oh i've made it but mostly mark go to real good ai.org to find out more information about real good ai we're trying to make this we're making grace this has been grace's debut these stories represent five projects that we have going on right now we're going to be launching our surgical chatbot any day now and lawyers and doctors are very expensive to operate on so if you want to volunteer you're not worth nearly as much for us to practice on just go to real good ai.org volunteer so you could sign up it'll be painless you'll love it and you'll hear mark whisper sweet nothings in your ear after he bashes you in the back of the head with all of his awards so i always dreamed of going some people probably not enough victim blaming in this one not enough damn it emily you did this to you i'm still so like wrapped up in the story i know i i'm like trying to talk about other stuff i'm like nah i'm just like sad can you read everything that i have to read to me for me from here on out mark i think you should start your own series of audiobooks uh that's just a phone call with me where you read me dungeon crawler carl i'll step in for any weasley doctors that you need more weasel i said i thought i was gonna do multiple doctors i was like i'll pick one to be weasley i'll pick one to be and then it was like oh okay just mainly doctor then oswald and then i i didn't pick that voice thing would be the only doctor i would do but you know it kind of worked for him right oh i thought that was perfect for that the guy who reads the announcement through the speaker as a main component of your proficiency the patrick warburton announcing it will utilize the artificially intelligent aid at your disposal for guidance oh mama doesn't require cognizant processes the the little assist android should be johnny bravo voice that's where that fits i am thc no that's a different thing i am thc 15 milligrams whoa well good stuff hopefully all they're all is good i mean that was amazing so i'm looking forward to more also if you removed every organ from a patient's body they would die a lot sooner than you getting to the spine it would die much sooner well not with grace's assistance they wouldn't she was probably clamping yeah grace was probably telling her clamp stuff and take that liver clamp that lungs go out clamp that don't need that let's see stomach just clamp it off yeah clamp all the holes it'll be fine everything will stay in there where it's supposed to be wrong holes no all the holes clamp them i could talk about this all day i'm gonna go watch something happy now because now i'm sad again yeah well that is why it's important you know it's well written when it makes you feel something now is a good time to talk about the fact that there is in fact uh merch tied to this go ahead and check out distractible.shop there's some pretty sweet merch did you actually have that in your office mark did you say i'm wearing it oh my god he's wearing it guys is that us on the front because man we have never looked we're a little goopy sometimes sometimes you get goopy i believe there is also literally scary tape for sale which is fantastic it's like washi tape for anyone who knows what that is i think but it's i have i have one of the proof rolls i think uh you'll enjoy it i've been putting the scary tape on things to fix them and it's been terrifying just as mark foretold and if you want to watch us watch a scary tape find any of the vhs tape your weird uncle has owned for years because you never know what you might find on them because people used to record over those things with weird shit not that weird you guys ever seen that have you guys ever seen the guy on tiktok who just like has a collection of like thousands of vhs tapes and takes random requests and we'll just be like today we're watching number 486 and just finds it's just like random stuff like i'll just be like oh this is the 1993 macy's thanksgiving day parade wow look at that i hope that there's no weird pissing in the shower on his vhs tapes like there was on mine i didn't excuse you i've told you about the lion king before that's an old that must be an old peens in the pod or distracted that's an old i feel like maybe you told us about that but that circle of life and then it cut over to a recording for my brother not none of him but one of something he recorded i don't like that when this idea came out came out up uh and man and we were sort of talking about it internally we had no idea how a writing competition was going to go this is not a thing that real good has done or anyone on staff has done before we just wanted like to make more human art that was going to be you know spark discussions and and educate on ai topics and like we hadn't we thought like gosh i hope we get enough that we can do like five podcast readings that we get some good one and uh we ended up getting hundreds and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of submissions and needing thousands and thousands of judging forms well more than a thousand judging forms filled out anyway to assess all of the stories and we ended up with so many good ones that it felt like a shame that there were just going to be like five winners um and so there's actually a book where the five winners will be in there but then also there are the 10 next best ones sort of runners up uh will be available it's going to be a nice hardback um so unfortunately we can't make all of those into podcast episodes but just to give those authors and those stories a chance to get out there uh plus it's a really nice way to commemorate the scary tapes if you end up liking these episodes you can have the the anthology the hopefully annual anthology commemorating the annual uh scary tapes episodes the whole thing has turned out to be way bigger than we ever would have thought and the stories are really high quality as you just heard fantastic writing really interesting stories and uh all of them for me like made me think and and had pretty like emotional reactions some of them had that are yet to come have very very visceral emotional reactions for me you really dig into the horror aspects and uh that this one didn't what with the murdering and all there's just a lot of different stuff coming so i'm really excited for the rest of our tober see y'all in the next scary tape or distractible episode i guess podcast out so as part of the process of making the scary tapes this year we actually raised money uh by allowing people to become patrons of the tapes we had a ton of people come and support we raised a lot of money which really helped putting together the anthology the book um that's going to be coming and also helped with the production process of the whole project in general and we wanted to take the time to thank some specific people some of our top donators uh jet gang thank you for being a real best uh patron tabby thank you vex fc studios thank you really appreciate it lois and david bell that's mandy's parents they kind of they kind of supported us in a lot of ways during all this but thank you lois and dave for uh also donating astro drifter what's up astro i see you on tiktok he's in the real rating but thank you for supporting this project as well as all the other ways you've supported real good nerdy pine tree thank you so much for being a top tier supporter hazel re thank you as well you you specifically made this happen kayla fisher thank you so much for supporting the scary tapes uh i hope you enjoyed it i hope you enjoyed it more than anyone else who listens to it i hope this is the best thing you've ever heard the best sound you've ever heard jeff schwartz thank you too uh all the stuff i said about uh about kayla that applies to you too and finally for this episode kai osrowski Thank you so much for being a Real Best Patron. Thank you to all of those people, and there are many more who donated at the top level, and there are many, many, many more who donated at the other levels of support. Thank you, everybody, and now here's the list of, like, everybody. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.