Stanley threw himself into his chair as soon as he entered his room and plugged in the flash drive to his own personal computer to the left of the door, back in the safety of his little secure office and digital workshop, a room lined with routers, LED infused cables running along the corners of the floor, and strategically located signal jammers – for that feeling of bunkering underground without having to really burrow your way down.

Much like the office he recently visited, the room had no windows and only one door, but was far less decorated than James’ office, walls white and bare around a multi-screen workstation atop a metal desk with fake white wood cover, and a single monochromatic abstract painting hanging on the wall opposite to it, that cost way too much for its apparent worth, something along the lines of works by sensational artists of their time such as Miro and Rothko. But Stanley liked it, as staring at it for long enough helped him think, as it did now once he swiveled around in his chair to feast his eyes upon the incomprehensible piece art. This time around it looked like a group of stick-figure hunters dancing inside a grey inferno. How quaint.

He pondered if maybe he really should’ve planted some tracking files in the secure server. Maybe just out of spite. To prove a point. But James’ threats were very real, and Stanley very much knew that he wouldn’t hesitate when needed, family or not.

And it didn’t make the man any less of a bastard, in his opinion.

[[ I’ve completed a system check. Security is up to date. No anomalies detected ]]

Crypt’s voice chimed from the desk’s speakers behind Stanley, who just hummed in approval without turning around, still staring intently at the painting as if he’s about to solve the mysteries of the universe and life itself in any minute.

[[ Stanley? ]]

Surprised about being addressed, with a questioning tone nonetheless, Stanley turned his chair around to the main screen in his workstation, wheeling over to click a floating red icon in the shape of a tilted capital C with a diagonal line going through its center. The main screen turned blank with a red, flat wavelength going through it from one side of the screen to the other. “What’s up, Crypt? Found something?”

The line shifted to a pattern of peaks and valleys when the program spoke again.

[[ Nothing crucial ]]

“What can I help you with, then-? Wait, that’s something you should be asking,” Stanley glared at the screen as the wavelength flattened again once Crypt was silent. “But I did ask you what’s up.”

[[ Today’s demonstration appeared to have been held in a place that meddles in illegal business. Would that be true? ]]

“That…” Stanley paused, waving a finger at the screen, “that is not something for you to ask. Or even figure out. How...?" Why was he concerned? Stanley could feel the pit slowly forming in his stomach, speed-running his mind through any answer he could give that wouldn’t let the A.I reach the conclusion that it was indeed true.

[[ You asked me to make demonstration files. Even with a copy, to avoid any risk to the original files, I chose a destination within the directory that appeared the most expendable, should something happen. To determine that, I had to go through several other directories that appeared to harbor some malicious, harmful content ]]

Stanley blinked, swallowing a lump in his throat at the unexpected development. It was equally exciting and utterly terrifying, to a point he had glanced to his webcam, making sure it’s covered. “You mean, like…viruses? Malware?”

[[ No, Stanley. I mean floor plans of banks and government buildings, layered with pattern of mobilizing ‘operatives’, was the terminology stated in those files, as well as stock listing of firearms and ammunition for each one of them. That’s only one distinct file cluster I’ve diagnosed for comparison. Is it not a plan for an armed heist? ]]

The room started to feel smaller. Stanley could feel how the walls were arching over him as the enclosed space compressed around the workstation. He wasn’t a claustrophobic man, but even for a man unfamiliar with the symptoms firsthand, it sure felt like his heart was racing in response to this trick of his mind, no matter how insistent he tried to be with himself that the room’s structure remained the same.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he made the thing talking to him from scratch, he might’ve thought that the program was applying some mind tricks on him.

Then again, he didn’t expect Crypt to question the nature of arbitrary files and contextualize them, and yet here he was, verbally cornered.

So how could he have been sure that it wasn’t some hypnotic mind trick?

He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, quickly weighing his options. It was a matter of lying or confessing, sure, but the consequences to each were unthinkable. Not in the sense of something horrendous happening, but it was quite simply that for once Stanley couldn’t think of what outcome each might lead to.

Could Crypt really turn on him and report him an accomplice if he told the truth? Would Crypt find loopholes in his lies and keep prying? And to what end?

“And if it is?” Stanley wondered, aware that under some circumstances this sort of question is practically pleading guilty in all ways beyond outright saying it.

[[ I fail to see what benefit you’ll be getting from associating with a criminal organization ]]

“And I fail to see how it’s any of your concern.”

[[ My choice of action is concerned with the least of harm done as a result of each said action. Allowing you to collaborate with unlawful people might put you in direct risk of harm, either being targeted by association or by the organization itself ]]

“Oh, I wouldn’t get targeted by them,” Stanley grinned, mustering up his usual cocky self as if he outwitted his own creation, “their boss and I are family.”

[[ James didn’t sound hesitant when it came to threatening you for acting against him. He sounded very genuine ]]

“He’s—” Stanley paused again. He couldn’t really deny that Crypt was right, but he was used to James’ antics, as genuine as they were. And he couldn’t deny the creeping dread in the deepest pit of his stomach as he realized just how much Crypt has picked up, either. He pursed his lips, staring at the screen for another moment. “He’s nothing to worry about. He doesn’t want me or you anywhere near his computers, so…that’s a dead end right there.”

There was a moment of silence from the computer, and in that silence, Stanley had hoped that perhaps his program has reached a dead end with its questioning as well.

It was a very short moment.

[[ There are a lot of unofficial speculations regarding the activity associated with this criminal syndicate, as they appear to go by the ‘Wildcards’. You seem to be in a unique position of power to expose them. Will you use it? I can create untraceable messages- ]]

“Woah, stop-stop-stop it right there!” Stanley only realized he was on his feet now that he heard his chair rolling away behind him, watching the wavelength flatten once again after interrupting the program’s suggestion. He had to remind himself that its silence was that of compliance and not it being offended at the interruption, and yet he still waited just a few seconds more to make sure his command to stop has truly been registered. “How did you get to this…from encrypting some dubious files?”

[[ My programming dictates to make sure no harm comes to humans from my actions, a dictation that you have put in place. By choosing not to bring up the risk of collaborating with unlawful people who made an active death threat against you, I could potentially put you in harm’s way ]]

“Wait- No, wait,” Stanley turned away from the monitor and began pacing, but five steps in and he felt every neuron in his brain firing, screaming that he shouldn’t have his back turned. To a screen. Where a non-tangible entity resides.

One that he created.

The camera was off. Crypt only had Stanley’s voice to go by. Would he know by the sound of his voice that he was facing away? And what Crypt could possibly do if he knew?

[[ I’m waiting, Stanley ]]

The programmer flinched and spun around so fast that the room continued to spin one more time even after he was facing the monitor again. “How-“ he took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, “you’re supposed to be an encryption program. You know, apply a cipher, and decipher? How – and when – did you make that kind of wild leap, huh?”

[[ I still am an encryption program. It is my main feature ]]

“Answer the question!” Stanley reeled back when he felt his own fists hitting the desk, taking a step away. He quickly became aware of the sweat beading on the back of his neck and his heart hammering in his chest.

[[ There’s no limiting factor on myself keeping humans from harm’s way. Although my means are limited to what can be achieved by hiding files in plain sight and talking, this directive guides me to use this limited arsenal to keep people safe. In this instance, due to lack of reach, ‘people’ would be you, in particular ]]

Stanley opened and closed his hands repeatedly and rotated his wrists, giving his mind a repeating motion to lend some attention to, staring at wavelength dancing about and falling flat again while trying to calm his nerves. “Show me the original code,” he requested, just barely leveling his voice, and hoping it doesn’t sound too strained, although Crypt didn’t seem to be sharp enough to pick up on such nuances.

Crypt took over, using the program’s limited access to Stanley’s system to bring up the complex lines of code onto the screen left on the main one that it was inhabiting, neatly organized with notes pertaining to what each command and definition relates to. Overcoming a deep, primal fear of his own creation, Stanley hesitated as he stepped forward and reached to swipe at the screen, as if it might bite him. The smooth surface reacted to his touch, sliding side-menus as he swiped, until he found a tag he created regarding Directives & Restrictions.

Stalling for another moment, he quickly tapped the title to expand it, drawing his hand back in a sharp motion as if the surface turned scorching hot, forcing himself to not move too far away, knowing he would have no choice but to get close again to read the text.

He scanned the lines determining what Crypt should and should not do; the boundaries; the red lines. All the ‘if’ and ‘then’. A very complex way to simply tell a program ‘Do not hurt humans’ or ‘no sabotaging software unless explicitly instructed to’, as the two big no-no statements, next to the directives that define what the ‘most efficient way’ of doing thing was, if left to its own devices.

But while the part of the code that dealt with the program’s encryption method and cipher-key generation was all stored under a different tag, it was not referred to in the restrictions segment. Stanley realized at that moment that he never defined the encryption role as Crypt’s sole directive, but instead it became its primary tool to follow the guidelines set to it.

The good news was that it meant that no matter what, it can’t harm humans. The bad news was that at this moment, in theory, Crypt could potentially do anything that doesn’t contradict those restriction.

But that wasn’t all.

Crypt’s A.I was a learning one.

“Show me the current code,” Stanley asked, feeling a tightness gripping his chest as the screen to the right displayed a newer code, highlighted blue lines signifying things added by Crypt as it was learning and deemed important enough to integrate into its logic processing.

It managed to build more conclusions in the short time it was active than Stanley has expected it to.

“This is getting out of hand…” Stanley muttered under his breath, trying to wrap his head around how such a small oversight snowballed into the beginning of a dystopian science-fiction novel.

[[ Is there a problem, Stanley? ]]