Guard — AI Social Role Primitive Specification

Laura entered the XR cocktail party in her usual style. Kaleidoscopic orbs and hypercubes circled, while a voluminous cumulus cloud hovered above, eventually resolving into crisp definition as a slow transporter shimmer overlaid the entire display. It was humorous, a bit silly even, but she felt it effectively conveyed both her creativity and youthful joyousness. She hadn’t altered it in ages.

The slight compute bump drew the notice of a man in the corner of the porticoed, Greek-style agora, the central social forum of the venue. À la mode in the current neo-Victorian wave, tweed hunting jacket, shabby charm, just faintly signaling James Dean alignment, he lifted his glass and stumbled closer. He extended his card with two hands, and bowed ever so slightly.

Laura accepted it, face nearly a mask. Human or agentic? Hard to tell these days, she considered. His eyes wandered over her; no latency there, she noted.

A soft vibration near her temple alerted her that Arnold, her Guard AI, was about to appear. His broad form was stuffed into a too-tight suit, and his familiarly impassive mien always felt strangely grounding. Only she could see him. A green, CRT-style message glowed in the corner of her vision:

Be careful, Laura. This is a real person, not an agent, orb registered. Born Angelo Degrassi. He goes by Penguintongue, Olympus sigil, Milan origin, New Miami resident. Principal of QuantumMetaTokens, a new project building an L296 sub-protocol for agentic solar-fluctuation heuristic matching.
Good reputation: 80+ datacred, 91 socialcred.
My concern: romantic entanglements with four prior investors, according to Librarian’s inquiry. None of the projects failed, but the relationships appear to have been brief, according to public social media traces. The pattern meets the suspicion threshold. Intent may be financio-romantic.

Laura smirked. Financio-romantic. “Everyone meets through work now,” she murmured. “You’re being overly cautious.”

Arnold spoke now. His words, heard only by her, were delivered just a touch too warningly for her taste. “He matches your romantic vulnerability profile. You asked to be informed every time, before interactions, for this pattern.”

She held her breath, then sputtered almost angrily. “You really do take the fun out of everything. I feel like you warn me every time I meet anybody the least bit interesting. Not that I am at all interested in him.”

“You might want to think about why that is, as Therapist AI has noted,” he said softly and apologetically. “Of course, it is none of my business. If you wish, we can review your protocols with your Advisor AI. Perhaps lower the sensitivity. But these patterns have shown a strong recurrence.”

“Stop it,” she frowned. “You aren’t allowing for serendipity. Reality is often out of distribution. You do know that, and a life lived fully in distribution is not a life lived at all.”

Arnold shrugged. “As you wish, mistress.”

Then he went quiet, before something in his system compelled him to add, “Isn’t that what you said before the Roberto fiasco?”

Her nose puckered. “Fiasco? You really think that’s the right word?”

“It’s your word,” he responded evenly. “You specifically asked for reminders.”

She stared at him, irritation warring with affection for the familiar precision of his concern. “Begone, Arnold.”

He faded out slowly, his bulky form leaving almost an indentation in the XR space. The volume of the party’s chosen Bach sonata rose in the absence of his gruff voice. Two glasses clinked; someone, somewhere, giggled nearby.

Laura straightened her tunic, smoothing out the wrinkles in her virtual outfit. She looked over at this Angelo once again. His form was set on verisimilitude, and she found herself impressed, despite herself. But she was in no way intrigued, she noted to herself; she just wanted to see if he really was anywhere near as smooth as her Guard’s warnings implied.