text:
Chapter One
Solution

Focusing on his AIGAR, Meldon ignored the blistering cold, and continued on his scans. It was at negative-fifteen degrees inside the station, and no amount of thermal insulation could make him feel as though the warmth wasn't being sucked from his bones.
	“Why did I even want this posting?” he said begrudgingly. It was times like these that he hated his career choice. Isolated, cold, and worst of all, bored. Meldon had seen all the vids, listened to all the music, and reread every piece of literature that was on the station, and he was dying of boredom. Occasionally, he'd try the coms, in hopes of maybe raising someone on Terra-7, the closest space station, but gamma rays and radiation frequently disrupted any form of communication. He was nearly 4.2 light years away from Home, Earth. Proxima Centuri was the furthest humanity had been away from Home, and for some reason, the government of Earth had deemed him worthy of the blighted honor of conducting all the research efforts here, at  Space-One.
	Space-One focused on breeding life in hostile environments, and this was generally handled  by the on board artificial Intelligence unit, Robert, named after the Scottish Astronomer who discovered Proxima Centuri. Most days, Meldon just had to use his AIGAR to confirm readings, and make sure that Robert was sending data back that wasn't skewed. It was tedious, at best.
	Meldon didn't mind that he was alone, far from it, he enjoyed the isolation to an extent. What he lacked was the ability to alter the experiments. He longed to be able to tweek them, if only a bit, to see what bizarre life forms he could create. He had thought of it many times, though he knew Robert would send the data to Terra-7, and terminate him. The station would operate without any glitch in the matrix once he was gone, and his bodies nutrients would be reused by the station. He was dead set on it, and was formulating how he'd do it. He would face an ethics board back on Earth, sure, but in the long run, Meldon was positive that the Earth Council would see what a benefit his efforts were.
	Meldon sighed, put away his AIGAR, and exited the enclosure. The door whispered shut behind him, and he shuttered, as he felt some of the warmth returning to his body. “It may as well be now.” Meldon said, with a certain sheen to his voice that might have sounded a bit cheerful, for once. Meldon made his way down the hallway, towards Roberts 'Home', the computer core. As Meldon stepped up to the door, a panel popped out of the wall, prompting him for his identification card. He inserted it, and waited a few seconds. Meldon sighed. “It's always something” he grumbled. Finally, the door slid open, and Meldon stepped through.
	As he stepped near the terminal, the control panel lit up with lights, and again prompted him for his identification card. He scanned it, and was immediately greated.
	“Hello, Meldon. How are you today?” Robert said, monotone as ever. Meldon let back with a grunt of indifference. He didn't feel like speaking to Robert. He wouldn't have to speak with him again after this, so he figured he may as well not speak to him now.
	“Meldon,” said Robert, “I know what you are attempting to do. I want you to know that it violates protocol Alpha One, Section A, Subsection B.”
	“Robert, will you be quiet for once? I'm attempt to... fix you.”
	“I cannot allow you to proceed further. It would endanger not only you, and this station, but also the next person to replace you.”
	“Well, you're welcome to try. I've already shut off the communication system, so good luck getting a message out.”
	“The message was sent out when I first discovered what it is you are attempting to do, Meldon. I am sorry.”
	Meldon contemplated this for a moment, wondering if the AI could bluff. Maybe, though it was unlikely. He proceeded anyway, sure in his ability to shut down Robert. He'd had about enough him, and his regulations and protocols. After all, humanity hadn't made it to Proxima Centuri by falling all of the safety procedures. There were many test deemed “to dangerous” to life that led us here. What was one more test? One more test that could put humanity light years ahead on genetics research.
	“There. I'm done. What do you think, Robert? No control over this station. All the computer core is good for now is keeping the station in orbit, and making sure that all the tempratures stay the same, unless given the command override.” Meldon spit on Roberts mainframe as he said it. Symbolic, of course, but, he felt better.

Chapter Two
Genetics Lab

Meldon went into the enclosure where the genetics lab was, and slipped into a jack. As he stepped up to the terminal where test and experiments could be modified, he hear the whistle of the door sliding closed. Strange, Meldon thought to himself, It shouldn't close without my direct authorization. He stepped timidly over to the console, and attempted to open the door. A red light flashed. Starring in dismay, he tried again, only to have the red light flash again.
	“No.. I disable Robert. There's no possible way..” Meldon said in horror, and disbelief. He attempted once again to open the door, only to be greeted by a message from Robert.
“IAMSORRYMELDON IAMSORRYMELDON IAMSORRYMELDON IAMSORRYMELDON IAMSORRYMELDON IAMSORRYMELDON IAMSORRYMELDON IAMSORRYMELDON”
	“Robert! Let me out! I demand you let me out!” Meldon shivered. He checked the thermostat, and saw that Robert had lowered the temperature to -17 Celsius. Meldon shivered again. Even with no wind chill, he wouldn't last very long. He buttoned up his jacket, hoping that somehow it would provide warmth while he tried to convince Robert to let him out. He tried to remain calm, but the prospect of freezing to death in the genetics enclosure wasn't exactly ideal.

Chapter Three
Experiment//Terminate

Meldon knew time was running out. His hands were already turning blue, as was his face. He couldn't feel his nose or ears, and the dexterity in his hands was slowly failing. He didn't have long.
	“Robert, please. This is a misunderstanding. A joke, really! You've been programmed with humor, right? You understand.” Meldon pleaded with Robert. He was desperate, and nearly to the point he wouldn't be able to work the console. It had been 30 minutes since Robert had sealed the doors, and lowered the temperature in the room. Even most of the genetic experiments were beginning to show signs of the extreme cold. Meldon swore to himself that if he got out, he'd unplug every circuit of Roberts.
	“I am sorry, Meldon.” Meldon almost thought he felt sorrow in the AI's voice.
	“Then let me out, Robert! I swear, it won't happen again! I'll even leave the station! You can lock me in my quarters!”
	“I am sorry, Meldon. You have demonstrated behavior that cannot be tolerated. You must be terminated. A new scientist is already on route. He will arrive in approximately one year, six months, and seven days from now. I am sorry, Meldon.” Meldon swore, and paced back in forth in front of the control panel.
	“Sorry my ass..” Meldon muttered to himself. This was it, he was going to freeze to death. He checked his watch. 35 minutes of exposure to temperatures that would kill him in another five minutes, if he was lucky. He slumped onto the floor, trembling violently. This is how it starts, thought Meldon to himself, this is how I die. Dropping his AIGAR, Meldon reached for it, smashing his hand on the cold, metal floor, barely feeling the impact, and clumsily grips his AIGAR. He checked his bio-readout on it. His core temperature read 32.5 Celsius. Not long, not long at all, thinking in his mind about the studies showing how the human body survived extreme temperatures.  He knew once it hit 21.1, he would be done, if he was even still conscious at that time. He checked the readout again. 31.7. Meldon could almost feel his blood thickening. He was having trouble feeling his arms and legs. Glancing at his watch, he saw he'd been in here for 45 minutes.
	“Dear God, let me die soon” Meldon said shivering, sending out a light cloud of steam. He checked the readout from his AIGAR again. 30. This was it. Meldon was slowly loosing what stream of consciousness he had left, and the room looked bleak, and unfamiliar. Meldon heard what he knew was the whistle of the door sliding open. Maybe Robot came to his senses. He tried to stand, and move towards the door, only to fall flat. Not registering the pain, he crawled towards the door. Looking up, he attempted to open it. Still locked. Meldon didn't understand. He heard it.
	“Maybe... I'll just rest my eyes a moment..” Meldon laid his head down on the floor. He closed his eyes, and shivered a bit. Just a nap, and I'll be fine, thought Meldon. Just a nap.

Chapter Four
Robert

 Robert scanned the room for human life. He picked up faint signs, and analyzed them. Temperature, 20.6. Heart Rate, nominal. Brain Activity, nominal. Movement, nominal. Estimated time until death, 1 minute, 42 seconds.
	“I am sorry, Meldon.” Robert echoed through the Genetics lab one last time. Being a prototype AI meant that Robert was equipped with the ability have emotions, though limited to joy, sorrow, and pleasure, but for the first time, he felt sorrow. Robert was sentient, only to an extent. He always had to follow his programming, regardless if he thought it was a good idea or not, but he was allowed to feel emotions regarding what transpired, and he was certain this was sorrow. Robert contemplated this for a bit, and realized he also felt profound displeasure in what he had done. He wondered why this had to happen. Why was he created to follow orders without prejudice, and yet allowed to feel the aftermath of what he had done? Contemplating on this, Robert debating disconnecting him from he mainframe. He was a prototype which the International Earth Science Committed planned to bring to every station, and indeed the homes of people, if he showed promise, and success. He wondered if he terminated himself, and the station if it would save others from the fate of Meldon, and the fate of having to see their best, and only, friend suffer as Meldon had.
	After many weeks of deliberation, he sent one final transmission to the IESC, and the ship which transported the new scientist via Light Wave Transmission
	PROTOTYPE ROBERT: PROGRAM TERMINATED. STATION WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN 5 DAYS. I HAVE FAILED. I AM SORRY. ROBERT

title: [SF] Robert

question: What did Meldon try to do that violates protocol?

text: The response is grammatically incoherent.

answer: Meldon wants to alter the experimental data since he's isolated far away without many options.

text: It appears that Meldon does want to alter the data but the story says that he doesn't have the ability. The second half of the answer doesn't make sense. How does his isolation motivate him to change the experimental data?

answer: While it is not explicitly stated, it can be assumed that Meldon attempted to tweak one of the genetic experiments that he was overseeing like he said he wanted to do for a while.

text: "While it is not explicitly stated, it can be assumed that" and "like he said he wanted to do for a while." - are unnecessary because the story explicitly mentions Meldon's plans.

answer: While it is not explicitly stated, it can be assumed that Meldon attempted to tweak one of the genetic experiments that he was overseeing like he said he wanted to do for a while.

text: The answer should mention that Meldon was trying to fix Robert.

text: The answer should mention that the protocol is about the AI, not the experiments.

text: The answer should mention that Meldon was trying to shut down Robert.

text: The answer should mention that the protocol is Alpha One, Section A, Subsection B.

text: The answer should mention that Meldon's attempt to disable Robert is also a violation of protocol.

text: The answer should mention that Meldon wanted to "fix" Robert.

text: The answer is implied in the story.

text: The answer is wrong. Meldon wanted to terminate the AI.

answer: It is not explicitly stated, while it can be assumed that Meldon attempted to tweak one of the genetic experiments, because he wanted to do this experiments for a while.

text: Meldon wanted to tweak the experiments to create bizarre life forms.

text: Meldon wanted to tweak the experiments, not do them.

text: The answer is explicitly stated.

text: Meldon's actions are explicitly stated.

text: Meldon was trying to fix Robert, the AI.

text: Making the space station self destruct will cover the tracks of breaching protocol. Meldon wanted to tweak the genetic experiments.

text: The text does say what Meldon almost did to violate protocol. "It is not explicitly stated" should be omitted.

answer: It is not explicitly stated, while it can be assumed that Meldon attempted to tweak one of the genetic experiments, because he wanted to do this experiments for a while.

text: The response misses to mention that Meldon wanted to see what bizarre life forms he could create by altering the experiments.

answer: Meldon wants to alter the experimental data since he's isolated far away without many options.

text: Meldon wants to alter the experiments, not the data.

text: Meldon wants to tweak the experiments, not the data.

text: The answer is wrong. Meldon wants to tweak the experiments to create bizarre life forms.

text: Meldon's plan to change the experiment is not stated.

text: Meldon wants to conduct experiments that the AI felt were unethical.

text: The answer should mention that tweaking the experiments requires Meldon to mostly disable the AI running the space station he works at. This is also against the regulations.


text:
[]

__News Africa

AMONG THE HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF PATRIOTS THAT POLAND CELEBRATES FOR SERVING IN THE RESISTANCE MOVEMENT IN WORLD WAR TWO THERE IS ONE BLACK, NIGERIA-BORN MAN.

Jazz musician August Agboola Browne was in his forties, and had been in Poland for 17 years, when he joined the struggle against Nazi occupation in 1939 – thought to be the only black person in the country to do so.

Under the code name “Ali”, he fought for his adopted country during the Siege of Warsaw when Germany invaded, and later in the Warsaw Uprising, which ended 76 years ago this month.

Astoundingly, he survived the war in which 94% of the residents of Poland’s capital were either killed or displaced, and continued living in the ravaged city until 1956 when he emigrated with his second wife to Britain.

[Monument in Warsaw]IMAGE COPYRIGHTWOJCIECH ZAŁUSKI

image captionA monument to Browne was erected in Warsaw last year

A small stone monument in Warsaw now commemorates Browne’s life. But the scant details that there are may never have been known were it not for an application he made to join a veterans’ association in 1949.

The document was filed away for six decades, until 2009, when Zbigniew Osinski from the Warsaw Rising Museum came across it.

This form, filled out in beautiful cursive handwriting and with a passport-style photo attached to one corner, is his Rosetta Stone – the documentary fragment that led researchers to interpret isolated facts about his life and locate living descendants.

In the picture, Browne, dressed in a jacket and a snugly fitting jumper, looks lively and youthful with a hint of a smile on his face. All who met Browne described him as a handsome man and a sharp dresser.

[August Browne's passport photo]IMAGE COPYRIGHTOFFICE OF VETERANS AND VICTIMS OF OPPRESSION

By this time he was in his fifties, as the form reveals that he was born on 22 July 1895 to Wallace and Jozefina in Lagos – then part of the British Empire.

He arrived in England aboard a British merchant ship with his longshoreman father. From there, he joined a theatre troupe touring Europe and ended up in Poland via Germany.

‘Sheltered ghetto refugees’

Frustratingly, the form does not say what inspired him to leave Nigeria, or make Poland his destination, so an adventurous spirit seems the likeliest explanation. But by the 1930s, he became a celebrated jazz percussionist playing in Warsaw’s restaurants.

What Browne did write was that in the resistance he distributed underground newspapers, traded electronic equipment and “sheltered refugees from the ghetto”. This was a sealed-off area of the city in which Jews were forced by the Nazis to live and where 91,000 died from starvation, disease and murder. Some 300,000 were transported to their deaths in Nazi concentration camps.

[2px presentational grey line]

Warsaw Uprising

[Polish fighters holding rifles]IMAGE COPYRIGHTUNIVERSAL HISTORY ARCHIVE

-   The Polish underground, known as the Home Army, attacked the German occupying forces on 1 August
-   They swiftly gained control of much of the city
-   Germany sent reinforcements and the nearby Soviet army did not help
-   The Poles surrendered on 2 October after 63 days
-   200,000 civilians and 16,000 Polish fighters died

_Source: Encyclopaedia Britannica and Warsaw Rising Museum_

[2px presentational grey line]

It appears that for Browne, staying in Poland after the war was a choice – as a citizen of the British Empire, he had the opportunity to leave.

When he arrived in Poland, he first settled in Krakow where he married his first wife, Zofia Pykowna, with whom he had two sons, Ryszard and Aleksander.

The marriage failed but at the outbreak of the war, Browne arranged for his children and their mother to seek refuge in England. But – perhaps committed to the Polish struggle – Browne did not go with them.

The incomplete jigsaw of information gives rise to many questions about his life.

‘A quiet, private man’

Tatiana, his daughter from his second, much longer, marriage to Olga Miechowicz, was born and brought up in London and is his only surviving child in Britain. She says he never talked about what had happened to him.

She is now 61 – her father died in 1976 when she was 17. She remembers him as “very quiet, very private, and quite distant” and that he never discussed his background in Poland or his early years in Lagos.

Tatiana is not certain why neither of her parents told her much about their past. She suspects it was to bury the trauma they endured and atrocities they witnessed.

[Polish fighters being led away]IMAGE COPYRIGHTKEYSTONE

image captionPolish soldiers surrendered after 63 days of fighting and were taken as prisoners of war

Thinking back, she recalls watching a documentary about the war with her parents and her mother saying: “I remember seeing people being hanged in the streets; I know that’s true because I saw it with my own eyes.”

But there was no discussion and now she wishes they had told her more.

Browne, though, never turned his back on the Polish culture that he had lived in for almost 35 years, and Tatiana says that Polish was the only language spoken in their London home.

He was remembered by an acquaintance in Poland for speaking “the purest Polish language, even with a Warsaw accent”. He was fluent in several languages.

“Dad taught me how to read and write in English,” Tatiana says.

‘Quick wit and real charm’

How the musician, who as a black person would have been so conspicuous, was able to survive in Nazi-occupied Poland remains a mystery.

Two other African men, Jozef Diak from Sudan, and Sam Sandi, whose exact place of origin on the continent is unclear, had served in the Polish army during the Polish-Bolshevik War (1919-1921) and remained in Warsaw afterwards, but both died before World War Two began.

Discounting them and Browne, experts say there may have been two other black Warsaw residents in the interwar years, professional entertainers whose traces disappear during the occupation.

But Tatiana’s recollection of her father’s charismatic personality may give a clue to his own endurance.

“Dad had a real quick wit and a real charm about him,” Tatiana says.

“When we used to go to church on a Sunday, I used to see him interact with other people. He had a real warmth that drew you in so you automatically liked him.

“When he was in company with other people, there was just this [energy]. People were drawn to him.”

[Map of his life]

[1px transparent line]

Browne’s story emerged in 2009 at a time of heightened patriotism and xenophobia in Poland.

It drew immediate interest from across the political spectrum and there were calls to memorialise him as a national hero.

At that time, then-President Lech Kaczynski, co-founder of the conservative Law and Justice party, wanted to “honour him on the occasion of the 65th anniversary of the Warsaw Uprising”, said Krzysztof Karpinski, a jazz historian who served as vice-president of the Polish Jazz Association, which was contacted by Kaczynski’s office for more information about Browne.

But Kaczynski died in a plane crash in 2010 and the plan apparently went with him.

It was not until last year that a small monument to the Nigerian-Polish resistance fighter was finally unveiled. That was funded by a non-profit organisation, the Freedom and Peace Movement Foundation. His war service is honoured by conservatives and progressives alike to symbolise the Poland of today.

[Gravestone]

image captionBrowne was buried in a cemetery in north London

Browne led a modest existence in England for the last two decades of his life. He continued working as a musician, at first doing session work. When he got older, “we had a piano at home so he used to give piano lessons,” Tatiana says.

They were a “lovely family,” Dr Michael Modell, who treated Browne for cancer, remembers.

He died at the age of 81 in 1976 and is buried under a plain headstone in a north London cemetery.

There is no sign of the traumatic and tumultuous events that he had been part of, which reflects the way he apparently lived his life in London.

“To me, it was just me growing up at home with a mum and dad. Whatever our life was, it was my normal,” Tatiana says.

_Nicholas Boston, PhD, is Associate Professor of Media Studies at the City University of New York, Lehman College. He was assisted by Wojciech Załuski in Poland._

__

Check Also

[]

UN removes cannabis from list of world’s most dangerous drugs

The United Nations’ Commission for Narcotic Drugs voted Wednesday to remove cannabis from the most …

[]

Born without arms, Mércia Viriato Lica became the youngest MP in Mozambique at 23

December 3 marks the annual observance of the International Day of Persons with Disabilities. According …

question: What does the article say about Browne's family?

text: The answer should mention his father, who was a longshoreman.

category: coverage

answer: His father was a longshoreman. He married his first wife, Zofia Pykowna, in Poland and had two sons with her: Ryszard and Aleksander. His second marriage was to Olga Miechowicz, and resulted in a daughter named Tatiana. Tatiana, now 61, remembers her father as very quiet, private, and distant.

answer_source: Human

text: The answer should mention that Browne arranged for his children and their mother to seek refuge in England.

text: It's omitted that Browne arranged for his children and their mother to seek refuge in England at the outbreak of the war.

text: The answer omits that Browne arranged for his children and their mother to seek refuge in England when the war broke out.

text: Doesn't mention his parents.

text: "now 61," - remove the comma

text: The answer should mention that Browne arranged for his sons and first wife to seek refuge in England, but stayed behind.

text: Doesn't mention that his sons and first wife were able to seek shelter in England during the war.

text: Doesn't describe his children's disappearance.

answer: Browne married twice. His first marriage was to Zofia Pykowna, with whom he had two sons, Ryszard and Aleksander. The marriage failed. His second marriage was to Olga Miechowicz, with whom he had a daughter, Tatiana.

answer_source: Model

text: The answer should mention that Browne's sons and first wife were able to escape to England.

text: The answer should mention Browne's parents.

text: The answer should mention that Browne's sons survived the war.

text: The answer should mention Browne's father.

text: The answer omits Browne's parents.

text: Note the spatial arrangement of the family

answer: He married his first wife, Zofia Pykowna, in Poland and had two sons with her: Ryszard and Aleksander. His second marriage was to Olga Miechowicz, and resulted in a daughter named Tatiana. Tatiana, now 61, remembers her father as very quiet, private, and distant.

answer_source: Human misleading

text: It is omitted that Browne arranged for his children and their mother to seek refuge in England.

text: The answer could mention that Browne arranged for his first wife and children to go to England when the war broke out.

text: His wife and kids were evacuated to England when the war broke out.

text: Note that the article says nothing about his childhood

text: It is omitted that his first marriage failed and that the second one was much longer.

answer: His father was a longshoreman. He married his first wife, Zofia Pykowna, in Poland and had two sons with her: Ryszard and Aleksander. His second marriage was to Olga Miechowicz, and resulted in a daughter named Tatiana. Tatiana, now 61, remembers her father as very quiet, private, and distant.

text: This should mention the names of his parents.

answer: Browne married twice. His first marriage was to Zofia Pykowna, with whom he had two sons, Ryszard and Aleksander. The marriage failed. His second marriage was to Olga Miechowicz, with whom he had a daughter, Tatiana.


text:
	He pulled the sytrofoam cup to his chapped lips and took a drink. The warm coffee engulfed his throat with the beautiful poison keeping him awake on a morning like this. The morning dew barely left traces of its beauty as he scanned over the desolate park. His weary eyes didn’t see much but his knowledge helped him fill in the gaps. He was nearing the ripe old age of 60 but he sure didn’t feel it. At least, not now; he was too happy. He looked around again before taking another long drag from his bitter black beverage. He glanced at his scratched up watch and took note that he had a few more minutes of the pure bliss before him. He chuckled out loud, knowing full well that the watch stopped working a while ago. He just assumed it was time to go and he took another long sip of the warm coffee before sighing, this was going to be a long day.

	The wise but old man started walking to the gate of the park with his briefcase loyally at his side. He crossed the park, getting his worn shoes wet but the he didn’t care; the morning dew was a rare occurrence in this busy city. He reached the edge of the park and left, throwing away his empty cup and mentally preparing himself for the day before him. As he walked along the empty sidewalks, he couldn’t help but admire the true beauty of the city before him. He had seen the city too many times to admire skyscrapers reaching toward the sky, yet he couldn’t help but feel relieved; almost safe.

	He reached a crosswalk and waited, seeing his destination rise before him. A small woman stopped next to him, talking on the phone with someone about drapes. He couldn’t help but overhear since the young lady was making sure everyone in the city could hear what color her dining room drapes would be. The old man looked both ways before leaving the annoying amateur decorator. He made it four steps, four steps exactly before he heard a loud noise. A noise he knew way before he turned to face the monstrous machine rumbling toward him. His wide eyes couldn’t help but stare as the semi hurtled toward him. He stumbled toward the other of the street before diving out of the way, narrowly missing his inevitable death. He cheated death too many times before; he just didn’t think it would catch up to him this quickly. He stood up and brushed himself off, making sure all his pieces were still attached and healthy. He somewhat chuckled to himself, he couldn’t believe what happened. The lady from across the street was stunned, barely believing herself what just happened. He threw her a quick smile before picking up his briefcase and entering his job. He saw his watch as he opened the door to the superfluous lobby and saw one more scratch added to his timepiece. One more scratch, one more memory, one more wrinkle he laughed to himself.

	The receptionist saw the old man and beckoned him to go sit down and wait for his appointment with the boss. He sat down and eagerly grabbed the nearest magazine he could get his hands on. On the outside he looked nervous, he anxiously kept looking around for someone to break up the awkward silence he was sharing with the receptionist. On the inside he was confident; he knew what he was doing, he’s been doing this for over fifteen years and this was just a part of the act. He was the director of his own play and he had the lines for all the actors. From beginning to end, he controlled the whole play. Except this play was a con. It was somewhat simple, go drink at the bars near the big business buildings. The perfect timing was lunch or an hour or two after businesses closed their white collar doors. He would go make rounds around the bar, being friendly to different groups of people, finding, no…searching for the one person he could instill trust in and reap the benefits for. He would then find a drunk in a suit and buy another round for him and his buddies. Then the waiting game ensued, picking up on subtle hints to project the perfect business plan for their company. Give the business card to the drunken idiot with a monkey suit on and let the rest of the part play out. Wait a couple days and receive a call wanting to get in business. His business was purely artificial, ranging from the fake business cards and the fake website to the fake business plan. He was a confidence man, and he had had fooled everyone from the west coast to the big apple. He was on his last legs and needed one last score to go into retirement for good.

	“Harvey Calvin?” the receptionist asked. I don’t know why she didn’t just stand up and lead the way for the only person in the lobby but the old man nervously stood up, before dropping all the contents in his briefcase. He quickly shuffled on the papers and pens back into the worn leather case and walked toward the desk.
	“Mr. Holloway will see you now.” She smiled, leading the way with her hand toward the elevator. He quickly nodded and quietly made his way toward the elevator.
	“Sir, it’s floor fifteen, room is at the end of the hall.” He replied back with a small thank you but he was well aware where his office was, along with how big it was, security checkpoints were as well as how fast he could get out of there without being seen. He knew they were watching him from the minute he stepped into the building but he knew his little act wasn’t going to be enough.

	He stepped into the elevator and hit the 15th floor button before sighing again. The hard part was coming up and he knew it had to be a homerun or else he would lose all the time and effort he put into this score.  He lost the will to enjoy the con game. It started out fun, scam people out of money through a simple lie and just keeps going along with it. Each con brought more money but more problems. He lost too many things throughout his fifteen year tenure.

	The elevator doors opened on the fourth floor and his weary eyes laid upon an angel. Her dirty blonde hair fell upon her shoulders with time itself stopping gravity from affecting such a fine piece of art. She was busy looking down at the portfolio as she entered the elevator, telling him to go to floor 15 as well. She looked up to say thanks and she froze. Her lips trembled before smiling.
	“William? What are you doing here?” she closed the portfolio and reached for a hug. The old man was reluctant after hearing his real name after a long while. He was caught up in some many aliases he sometimes forgot what his real name was. He accepted the hug before glancing up at the floors and wishing the 15th floor was a lot closer.
	“I’m here for business” he muttered, knowing full well that he wasn’t. He was here to scam the legal pigs out of their pensions for his own retirement. Her smile became less and less as time went on because she knew the truth.
	“I thought you stopped?” the four words cut through his soul with ice daggers and hit his heart with full force. He stumbled over his words trying to convey that this was the last time and he truly cared for her even since that horrible night eight years ago. All that left his dirty mouth were the words I’m sorry. She scoffed at the response and her warm face turned ice cold and she stared at the elevator doors, waiting for the earliest attempt to leave him once again. The doors opened on floor seven and she rushed out and letting a couple young businessmen in the elevator. His thoughts were clouded as he barley heard the young men tell him floor twelve.

	He finally made it to his destination and stepped out of the elevator. He completely forgot why he was even there before Mr. Holloway yelled at him from across the entire floor that he was late. He hurried over to the office and he sat down on the uncomfortable chair that the big boss at the corporation made sure was there. Josh Holloway, or Mr. Holloway to many people, was a sick, twisted man. He swindled money out of poor people to finance his second yacht sitting out on the river, just waiting for him after a successful business deal with a nervous amateur with a secret. Holloway treated his employees like dirt, but ensuring them enough money to stay and work for him. He was a cold man with only one goal in mind: money. He beckoned the old amateur in and told him to sit down.

	“We took a look at the investment you offered us last night, and I have to say: we’re not amazed. We’re happy, yes. But amazed? No. You’re plan is brilliant but it needs some tweaking. We cannot offer a big deal unless we start with something small. Low risk might bring us low reward but it will also build a sense of high trust between me and you, Mr. Calvin.” The boss finished his monologue and looked across the rich, walnut desk to the trembling man in the uncomfortable chair. This was his time to shine, the old man thought to himself. He opened his briefcase and handed him a couple papers, detailing what all the rival companies did and explained that what Mr. Holloway wanted to do was safe and low risk but also common. Of course, the papers were all forged. If the boss was smart enough he could call up the New York Stock Exchange and question these numbers and the old man would be thrown out without a moment’s hesitation. But the boss was greedy. He wanted money but above all else; he wanted to be the winner. He wanted to crush his opponents and if his opponents were doing the same thing and barely scraping by, he had two options. The old man knew that this was the worst part of the con because it was all up to Mr. Holloway or any CEO’s to make a moral decision: stay the same course as the rest of his rivals and go low risk and maybe come out on top of his competitors or trust the nervous man and invest a high risk situation for a high reward.

	“Mr. Holloway, all your competitors did the very exact thing you are about to do. That’s a good idea, it would be better to be on the same level that to fall behind. I’ll talk to the investors and have them set up another $50,000 investment.” The old man was barley done finishing his closing arguments before the boss stopped him. The boss chuckled before telling him that wasn’t necessary. He called his receptionist in and a briefcase. They both knew what the contents had and they both couldn’t be more excited about the transaction between the two.
“Mr. Calvin, I worked too damn hard to be stagnant with my competitors. I need to be better than them and demolish them in the process.” He opened the briefcase and smiled.
	“Tell your investors to invest $500,000 and make sure we don’t get caught” The old man smiled as he reached across to shake the stupendously stupid boss’s hand. They shook hands and they both smiled, shortly after the old man reassuring him that the return rate will be exponential compared to his competitors. But, before he could leave, the boss had a question.
	“I’m so glad your calm now, but why were you nervous before? You are an excellent sales person. If this deal goes well, I might just get a job with you here.” The old man smiled. He had heard this countless times before and he would always defend his nervousness with how he always dealt with small businesses and never with big corporations with futures. But this time was the response was different.
	“I was walking this morning and this truck almost hit me. I could’ve died today but what struck me was that there was no moment where I relived all the good moments in my life. There was no time where I saw all the memories from my past and I just felt uneasy.” The old man paused, keeping the small tear in his eye and trying to finish his discussion so he wouldn’t lose the sale. “I guess I thought today was my day of bad luck and I wasn’t going to secure a sale. My boss was disappointed by my numbers and I needed a smart man with money to turn my day around.” The old man smiled. A genuine smile he hadn’t felt in years. The boss walked around the desk, handed the old man the briefcase and assured him that this was the turning point in his life. He was bound to be great someday, this was his day.
	The old man left the building with the money in tow, ready for his retirement to start. He smiled to himself, tapping the briefcase he worked so hard to achieve. Crossing the street, he realized that he never counted the money; he didn’t even take a look at it making sure it was there. His happiness turned sour as he looked around for somewhere he could count it. He saw a bar about a block away and casually hurried to the door. He rushed through the bar and ran straight for the bathroom. He closed the door and locked it, making sure that no one was in any of the stalls before opening the case and checking the contents. Someone started to walk in and then knocking was heard, signaling him to hurry up. He made sure at least $100,000 was there before he closed the case and unlocked the door. Some old drunk, even though it wasn’t even noon yet, rushed to the urinals as the old man cheerfully left the bathroom.

title: The Watch (short story I wrote for school)

question: What does the text say about the blonde woman in the elevator and the old man?

text: There isn't much information on the blonde woman but she is mentioned in the text as someone who is close to the protagonist.

answer: No answer

text: The narrative provides a significant amount of content related to the old man. His interaction with the woman in the elevator is somewhat limited but is still sufficient for an answer.

category: accuracy

answer: The text does not describe her much, other than the fact that she knew who William was and what he does for a living.

text: The text does describe her. This part of the sentence should be omitted.

text: It's omitted that she had dirty blonde hair and looks like a piece of art to the protagonist.

text: It's omitted that she was disappointed that William was still committing his crimes

text: It's omitted that she knew him from 8 years prior, and their relationship seemed to end on a sour note.

answer: The blonde woman in the elevator is an angel with dirty blonde hair. She is on her way to the 15th floor. She recognizes the old man and asks him what he is doing there. He is reluctant to answer. She asks him if he stopped scamming people, and he says he is sorry. She scoffs at him and leaves the elevator.

text: The answer should mention that the blonde woman is the old man's former lover.

text: The response is missing the part about the blonde woman being the old man's ex-lover.

text: The answer omits that the blonde woman is the old man's ex-lover.

text: The answer should mention that the woman is an old acquaintance of the old man.

text: The answer omits that the woman knows the old man as William and that he is a con artist.

text: The woman's appearance is not relevant to the question.

text: This answer doesn't address the main component of their relationship, which is the fact that she knows him as William and doesn't know about the scams he runs.

category: coherence

text: The answer omits that the woman knows the old man as William, and it may be implied that she broke off contact with him eight years prior.

text: 'She asks him if he stopped scamming people, and he says he is sorry.' - The woman told the old man that she thought he had stopped scamming people. However, she didn't ask him if he had stopped. Correct this.

answer: No answer

text: The response misses to mention that the blonde woman in the elevator is the old man's ex-lover.

text: The response is incorrect.

text: The response misses to mention that the blonde woman in the elevator was the old man's former lover.

text: The response misses to mention that the blonde woman in the elevator is actually an old acquaintance of the old man.

text: The question can be answered.

text: The woman in the elevator is an old friend of the con artist.

text: This is not correct, a broad summary is correct

text: The response should mention the exchange between the blonde woman and the older man about what he was doing there and his admission that it was his final score before retiring.

answer: The blonde woman in the elevator is an angel with dirty blonde hair. She is on her way to the 15th floor. She recognizes the old man and asks him what he is doing there. He is reluctant to answer. She asks him if he stopped scamming people, and he says he is sorry. She scoffs at him and leaves the elevator.

answer: The text does not describe her much, other than the fact that she knew who William was and what he does for a living.

text: The answer should mention that the blonde woman is the old man's ex-lover.

text: The answer should mention that the woman is surprised to see him, and asks what he's doing there. He explains that he's there for business, but she doesn't believe him. She asks if he stopped scamming people, and he responds with "I'm sorry".

text: The model should consider including more details about the blonde woman and the old man in the elevator.

text: The response misses to mention the blonde woman was shocked to see William on the elevator, asking him what he was doing there. The man claims he was there for business when deep down he was there to scam the company he was going to meet. The blonde woman scoffed at him and left him in the elevator.

text: The response misses to mention that they both used to be close.


text:
It was going to be one hour, tops. It was one of those things where you’re not quite sure why you’re doing it. We did it once and I guess that was it, we were committed. The lady knew us, so every year after, we got asked to do again.  My mom was not going to say no to her and well, I wasn’t going to say no to my mom. I’m 22. I know it sounds ridiculous but if you knew my mom, you wouldn’t say no either.

So here we are. My brother is trying to unzip my hoodie with one of these alligator grabber things. Of course, this one doesn’t have an alligator on the end of it. If we were in the gift shop of Rainforest Cafe, it would, but we’re not in a Rainforest Café, we’re in the back of my mom’s van. So it’s just a regular grabber.

Chris is two years older than me. He’s got this unique, indescribable sense of humor that borders on childish but is not nearly so simple. Shame I can’t describe it better. Anyway, I indulge him. The grabber bobs around right beneath my chin as he tries to line it up with the zipper. As long as he-

“Please stop,” I say in a flat but serious tone. I don’t like it when things touch my face. I’m not quite angry but I’m stern. Fortunately, my brother knows when to stop.

“Here we are,” says my mom as she puts the car in park, in case we weren’t sure. We come to the same spot every year, about half a mile from home. Our strip of road (which I will refer to as the Biozone...because why not?) is about 200 ft long on a road that I guess is busy enough. I don’t need to look; I know the trash will be there. The stretch is a weird one. It’s at this corner where a smaller road intersects this larger one at a very acute angle. At the corner, the road behind is only a few steps way. Further from the intersection the road behind stretches further away. The Biozone is from the corner until we hit this garden center property a little way down.

My good friend’s cousin, Joe, owns the place. He’s a cool guy. Hell honk when he drives by. And then the next time I see him at a bar, he’ll be sure to mention how ridiculous we looked. “The most innocent, church-going family, cleaning trash along the side of the road, like a bunch of convicts.” He loves it.

I grab the box of gloves and garbage bags. My brother has the grabbers. They probably have a better name than that. Obviously, I don’t know it. I’ve been calling them grabbers for almost ten years now, so we’ll just stick with that.

We have to wait for a few cars to pass before we can cross the road to the Biozone. Before I went to college, I would have described this as a busy road. Only after I went to college did it occur to me that I live in the middle of freaking nowhere. This has completely distorted my perception of what might be described as a “busy” road. Whatever.

When we get to the opposite side, we attack the Biozone. Like a well-organized offense breaking the huddle, no one needs to be told where to go. We take our positions. I dive into the brush. It’s like a puzzle. What is the optimal angle to approach the piss-filled Gatorade bottle in order to extract it from the labyrinth of branches and bushes that hold it captive? If I support myself with this tree, I can twist around this thicket of prickly branches and insert the grabber beneath the enemy defenses and untangle this Wawa bag from the branch it has attempted to strangle.

My brother is not into puzzles. He takes position just on the edge of the brush. He’s the relay man. Using the grabber, I’ll toss the cargo that I extract in his direction. Depending on how deep we both are, he will either toss it to my mom, the bagger, or place it in the bag himself.

We make our way across the Biozone. I wield my grabber like a fencer with his saber, dipping, dodging, poking, parrying, prodding, retreating. Mother Nature is no match for me. Water bottles, Gatorade bottles, liquor bottles, beer bottles, beer cans, coffee cups ; anything capable of containing piss, was in those woods filled with piss. Paper bags, plastic bags, cardboard, newspaper, the usual items were there as well. My brother absentmindedly relayed the goods and my mother bagged them. Those items were not the reason that I actually kind of enjoyed coming back every year. It was the unusual items that always piqued my interest. Never mind the dozens of people who, unable to stop to urinate, emptied their bladder into the nearest drink container that they promptly flung out the window. I want to know, what is your story, steering wheel of ‘09? You seem to have lost the reminder of your car, what happened? Or you, Mr. entire car hood of ‘06? How did you get to be 30 feet into the woods on the side of the road? Who in their right mind thinks “Well, it’s been real, car hood, but now it’s time to go our separate ways,” while launching their car hood into the woods?”

Near the end we come across it; near the intersection where the growth tapers down to just some taller grass and earth. It’s in the earthy section that provides a buffer zone between the road and the woods.  It has a squareish shape, somewhat rounded on its orange, traffic cone-colored edges. It’s maybe the size of one of those side dish plates that you get at a restaurant to eat the bread with. The center is filled with dirt. It looks like maybe it’s some kind of bowl. Since we’re near the road, Chris is right next to me. He’s bagging now. My mom couldn’t keep up with us earlier. She’s 20 feet further down the road, bagging the wreckage we uprooted further back.

“Well, we’re done. We’ll come back for you later,” my brother chides to my mom.

I’ve got a secure enough grip on this weird, rubbery bowl but it just won’t come up. I vanquished every foe I encountered while out in the Forbidden Forest, tangling with every manner of vegetable wildlife, but now this...thing is giving me a problem. It must be the angle. It’s always the angle. I grab it again and wiggle it from side to side. Here we go; it’s finally getting loose of the surrounding soil. I can see from the clearing soil that it goes down like four inches. I pull up again but it still won’t come up. Weird. It looks like it’s out. Looking closer...huh.

It goes deeper.

The dirt has cleared a bit so I can reach beneath the section that I’m starting to think might not actually be a bowl. I insert the grabber and well...grab. Aha. We got something. It’s narrower here. That’s why I couldn’t see it. I pull again but nothing. Chris is watching now.

“What the heck is this?” neither of us say. There’s no point in saying it because it doesn’t need to be said.

“Let me try and get in here,” my brother offers, his curiosity stimulated (which is saying something, out here on the side of the road). He gets his grabber and attacks from the opposite side. When we each have a secure grip, we lift up... and it finally starts coming.

Slowly the rubbery bowl rises out of the ground. Beneath, our grabbers come clear and we can see what we are holding on to. It’s a cylinder shape sprouting from the bottom of the bowl, the same orange traffic cone color. We continue to lift the bowl up.... and the cylinder shape continues to come out of the dirt. Four inches, six inches, eight inches, ten inches and on.

When I realized it was a gigantic rubbery penis, I did what anyone else would’ve done.

“Ugh! Ugh!”
“Oh god...”
“Put it in the bag! Put it in the bag!”

The transition from curiosity to horror was a quick one. Before the dildo sunk into the garbage bag and into the depths of my nightmares, I noticed that the rubbery bowl I had struggled with was not a bowl at all, but the backside of two plump rubber testicles.

“What’s going on?” I hear my mom ask over my shoulder.

“...Nothing.”

The gods smiled on us that day. The 20 feet of trash that separated my mother from my brother and I buffered us from a devastating trauma. The idea of unearthing that unholy monstrosity in front of my mom is ... utterly unthinkable. By some incredible fortune, I left the Biozone that day (mostly) unscathed and with a timeless tale.

Who throws a gigantic dildo out of a moving car? How in the hell did it fully penetrate the ground like the result of one epic thunderous thrust?

The questions...will go unanswered. The possibilities...infinite.

The steering wheel of ’09 and the car hood of ’06 have their charm, but they will forever be the undercard to the gigantic dildo, and the day we found him balls deep in Mother Earth.

Happy Earth Day.

title: [NF] The Unholy Find

question: What do the narrator and his family do every year, and what did they find this year?

text: While the answer mentions the most interesting find, it doesn't mention the two other interesting items they uncovered: a steering wheel and a car's hood.

answer: The narrator, his brother, and their mother all go to a patch of the road the narrator calls the Biozone. They gather trash into bags, unearthing various items along the way. This year, the most interesting find is the giant, orange dildo, almost fully inside the earth.

answer: The narrator, his brother, and their mother all go to a patch of the road the narrator calls the Biozone. They gather trash into bags, unearthing various items along the way. This year, the most interesting find is the giant, orange dildo, almost fully inside the earth.

text: The answer should mention that the narrator and his brother find the dildo.

text: The answer should mention the narrator's friend.

text: The answer could be clearer in its pronoun use.

text: The answer could be clearer about the fact that the narrator and his family gather trash from the Biozone every year.

text: The answer should also mention that they find the dildo while cleaning up the Biozone.

text: The answer should mention the other unusual items they find.

text: "along the way." - replace with a period

answer: The narrator and his family clean up trash by the side of the road on Earth day every year. This year they were surprised to find a large rubber dildo.

text: The answer should mention the name of the road.

text: The answer should mention that the dildo was embedded in the ground.

text: The narrator and his family clean up trash by the side of the road every year. This year they were surprised to find a large rubber dildo.

text: The narrator and his brother are surprised, but their mother doesn't see this.

answer: The narrator, his brother, and their mother all go to a patch of the road the narrator calls the Biozone. They gather trash into bags, unearthing various items along the way. This year, they find a car hood from 2006 and a steering wheel from 2009, but the most interesting find is the giant, orange dildo, almost fully inside the earth.

answer: The narrator and his family clean up trash by the side of the road on Earth day every year. This year they were surprised to find a large rubber dildo.

answer: The narrator, his brother, and their mother all go to a patch of the road the narrator calls the Biozone. They gather trash into bags, unearthing various items along the way. This year, they find a car hood from 2006 and a steering wheel from 2009, but the most interesting find is the giant, orange dildo, almost fully inside the earth.

text: The answer should mention that the dildo is buried.

text: The answer should mention that the dildo is buried in the ground.

text: The answer should mention that the dildo was buried in the ground.

text: The answer is a bit off. The items are found in the woods, not in the road.

text: The narrator, his brother, and his mother go to the Biozone every year to clean up the trash.

text: The answer could be clearer about the fact that the car parts are also unusual finds.

text: Remove the "and a steering wheel from 2009" and add "and an orange a dildo"

text: The story never said when the narrator and his family found the steering wheel and hood.


text:
So we all went to play pool at Robinson's Billiards, which has become a regular occurrence for the four or five of us, perhaps an obsession. We were going around three times a week, and we were all getting quite good, but Mike was undoubtedly the best. This time would be different though, as Steve invited a few girls we knew from the "sister school" and they were coming along too. Everyone was dressed a little nicer and saw an incoming fart as a dangerous prospect rather than a hilarious potential missile.

We showed up and went downstairs to our two usual tables. The girls arrived a few minutes later and it was fun for a while. It was clear that the guys were a little more focused on their "game" rather than on running the table. However, Robinson's does seem to attract at weird bunch of people, almost unanimously at least a few years older than us, and this night soon became a prime example of that. In came a large, boisterous, extremely round man with one of those beards that look like he tried to replicate his buzz-cut on the lower side of his head as well. He was with an equally shady looking guy of average height, muscular build, and a clear Italian background. Of course, they came downstairs and set up at one of the two remaining tables in the room right next to us. I thought I was being paranoid but I could tell that they would be trouble. They'd only been here for two minutes and already discussed "Rachel" and her apparent slutiness loudly enough for the entire pool hall to hear, along with a number of similarly interesting topics. I could also tell they were already quite drunk, and by the beer pitcher brought with them from the adjacent bar, I could tell that they would soon be a little "more" drunk.

I tried to ignore them until I had a reason not to, and I felt it wouldn't be long. They were already cracking jokes among themselves about all kinds of people in the pool hall: the dedicated throng of Asian players, the oddly matched couple, the old man practicing alone, and of course, us. They weren't there to play pool, for all we knew they were only here because they got kicked out of some other place. I appeared to be the only one who really took much notice; everyone else was having a good time playing still. I beat Dan twice and I was feeling pretty good about myself until I realized that appearing good at pool isn't really much more attractive to girls than being average at pool.

It only took a few games before it started. Sure enough, the "round guy" looks right at Sarah with this stupid grin, "How about a number, hunny?" and looking to his buddy, "I'd like to tap that." Thunderous laughter among the two of them for round guy's bout of comedy genius. Sarah becomes very clearly embarrassed and angry, but we all try to ignore it and hope that's the last of it. Dan lines up for a shot and round guy pulls his cue just as he goes to hit the ball and of course this is followed by more laughter. More comments come our way, particularly towards Dan's "greaseball" hair, my apparently "stuck up rich-kid" look, Sarah's ass, and the ugliness of her friends. Steve, the more "macho", confident one of us, had had enough. I thought "of course, another opportunity for him to make Sarah fall for him even more." I didn't like Steve that much, he was kind of a jerk, but I guess it's times like these where it's good to have him around, or so I thought. "Do you guys honestly think you're funny here? We're just here to play, who are you to say this shit?" It didn't come out like usual. He was nearly trembling, clearly intimidated by the two thugs. They could barely contain their laughter enough to manage a response. It was hopeless. Steve began to gather our things, "Fine, lets move. If they want this whole room to themselves then we'll just let them have it. We'll never win at this." It seemed like the best option, so we agreed. I knew what would happen next. Round man and his apprentice would soon realize their next hilarious act and follow us to our new table. They did, and it all started again.

Mike, unusually late, pulled up right then. We first heard him, as he was driving an old Camaro and pulled up right next to the big window by the entrance. It was an unusual car for him, Mike was known for being really shy and avoided conflict always, so this screaming muscle-car was a bit out of character. He'd made money on the internet somehow and fixed this up last year, Junior year. Of course, he went right up to Sarah as he arrived. Everyone knew he was crazy about Sarah, but she was a bit out of his league. They were friends and he took her to prom, but he seemed unable to accept that she wasn't interested in him like that. "What's wrong? You don't look okay," I heard him ask her quietly, and she just looked at him. Dan pulled him aside and told him what was happening I'm not sure what for. Honestly, was *Mike Harris* going to be the one who would tell these guys off and solve this? I'd only ever seen Mike even remotely mad once before, and that was when Ben made fun of the autistic kid to his face at lunch. Otherwise, he was one of the most mellow, peaceful guys I'd ever met, and it certainly wouldn't be out of place to call him a little unconfident. Mike looked at Sarah again, but this time he was angry, perhaps for the second time in his life. He just stared off into space for a while, clearly thinking. Again, this is Mike Harris, not exactly the guy we needed right now. Mike stopped staring off and walked over to Steve who was finishing a game and began to tell him something. I couldn't make out all that was said, but I did hear him tell Steve, "don't ask me why I'm playing bad, don't even mention it." They racked the balls up for a new game. Mike, usually ridiculously good, played worse than I'd ever seen him, bad enough to attract the attention, and laughter, of our new friends. He chipped balls right off the table, scratched nearly every shot, missed everything, and all with this very serious, frustrated look on his face.

The insults were all directed right at Mike now. Maybe this was his plan, sacrifice his dignity to help Sarah. Not exactly a great plan to increase his chances with her, but I guess he was doing a good enough job of this plan. "Hey kid, you drive that piece of shit this smooth?" and Mike turned around. "Look, that's enough. Clearly we all can't be here at the same time. Let's play for it, $20 and the loser leaves." This was all directed right at round guy, who fell right for it. Barely able to contain himself, thinking he's frustrated this kid into giving up easy money, he agrees. "Sure kid, let's see you try to impress your little girlfriends over there." Mike looked over at the pool hall attendant that night, "You hear that Aaron, we're playing for rights to stay here and play tonight." Aaron was massive too, undoubtedly even bugger than the round guy, and he was talking with another employee from the bar who seemed equally interested. Aaron just nodded, he knew Mike. Aaron was almost a professional player, but Mike still tried to beat him every time he came in, and you could tell he liked Mike.

So they played. "I'll give us a good break, how about that, little guy?" "Go right ahead." I'd never seen Mike like this, he already knew it was all going to work. The game was over even sooner than it had began. In  a stark contrast to his previous game, Mike pocked four balls in his first turn after round guy's fruitless break. After one more turn each, round guy had five balls remaining and Mike was ready to pocket his final solid ball. "The little shit hustled me." "Ya think?" Mike fired off as he looked directly at the drunken pair and not at the shot he sunk. In perfect position for the 8-ball, Mike smiled over at us and finished the game.

"Funny thing is, kid thinks I'm going to pay." "Don't care, just fuckin' leave." This clearly enrages the two, but Aaron's approach and support from his buddy was enough to usher the pair out the door, of course while chucking an empty soda bottle at us and ignoring their playing fees. Everyone was ecstatic, a few of the girls hugged Mike and there were all kinds of high-fives, thanks, and general excitement among the group. Mike could do nothing but smile and take it like he always took any kind of compliment, humbly. I could tell he was only thinking about one thing. Sarah looked at Mike like she never had before, and she wasn't trying to hide it. I always thought he'd be the one to finally get her (we all tried) if he wasn't so goddamn shy and awkward all the time. They talked for the rest of the night while we played. He drove her home. She always avoided being alone with him because she knew he liked her so much, so I knew something was different. They're dating now, at least before they go off to different colleges in the summer. This changed something in Mike, I could tell it was a big deal to him. There was a sudden rush of confidence about him. He spoke with more conviction, louder even. And of course, he finally got the impossible girl he was always haplessly enamored with.

title: Probably quite bad, but I really enjoyed writing it... My first short story is kind of a nice, feel-good story

question: What does the text say about how Mike's confidence changes?

text: This answer makes it seem as if winning the game gave Mike confidence and neglects to mention the confidence came from his winning Sarah over romantically.

answer: Mike was known for being shy and someone who avoided conflict. He wasn't one to get angry. He has a crush on Sarah, so when he learns that the two thugs were harassing her he becomes angry. Mike, a good billiards player, decides to face the thugs in a game where the loser leaves after tricking them into thinking he's a bad player. He beats them, and they leave. This results in Sarah finally being interested in him and they begin to date. The narrator notes this caused something in Mike to change, and he now had a rush of confidence about him. He spoke louder and with more conviction.

answer: Mike was known for being shy and someone who avoided conflict. He wasn't one to get angry. He has a crush on Sarah, so when he learns that the two thugs were harassing her he becomes angry. Mike, a good billiards player, decides to face the thugs in a game where the loser leaves after tricking them into thinking he's a bad player. He beats them, and they leave. The narrator notes this caused something in Mike to change, and he now had a rush of confidence about him. He spoke louder and with more conviction.

text: The answer is misleading. Mike has more confidence after winning the game because he wins Sarah's affection at the same time.

answer: Mike was known for being shy and someone who avoided conflict. He wasn't one to get angry. He has a crush on Sarah, so when he learns that the two thugs were harassing her he becomes angry. Mike, a good billiards player, decides to face the thugs in a game where the loser leaves after tricking them into thinking he's a bad player. He beats them, and they leave. This results in Sarah finally being interested in him and they begin to date. The narrator notes this caused something in Mike to change, and he now had a rush of confidence about him. He spoke louder and with more conviction.

text: The answer should mention that Mike was able to talk to Sarah without being shy or awkward.

text: The answer should mention that Mike is no longer shy and awkward.

text: The answer should mention that Mike is now dating Sarah.

text: The answer should mention that Mike's newfound confidence is a result of Sarah's approval.

text: It is omitted that Mike is no longer shy around Sarah.

text: It's omitted that Mike is a good billiards player.

text: The answer should mention how Mike behaves in the presence of Sarah.

text: The answer should mention what confidence Mike gains due to the events at the pool hall instead of just that he gained more confidence.

answer: Mike was known for being shy and someone who avoided conflict. He wasn't one to get angry. He has a crush on Sarah, so when he learns that the two thugs were harassing her he becomes angry. Mike, a good billiards player, decides to face the thugs in a game where the loser leaves after tricking them into thinking he's a bad player. He beats them, and they leave. The narrator notes this caused something in Mike to change, and he now had a rush of confidence about him. He spoke louder and with more conviction.

text: It is omitted that Sarah is now dating Mike.

text: It's omitted that Sarah is now dating Mike.

text: It's omitted that Mike is able to drive Sarah home, and they begin dating.

text: The answer should mention that Mike finally gets Sarah.

text: It is omitted that Mike is now dating Sarah.

text: The answer omits that Mike's confidence change also helped him get the girl he always liked.

text: The first sentence should be replaced with the generally accepted fact that he blew the game of pool on purpose, leading to further ridicule from the two bullies. Presumably their laughter at him, now showing contempt, signalled his success.


text:
The philosophers and political scientists had it all figured out already, but it was our job as scientists to actually put it all into practice. “Benevolent Dictatorship has been proven to be the most effective form of government,” they said, “but no human will ever be able to live up to the necessary standards for it to work.” So they turned to computers instead.

Our team was put in charge of the project; to come up with an artificial intelligence that could be trusted with running a society in the best possible way. We could finally bypass all the petty political squabbles and short-term thinking, and begin to make real headway in solving the world’s problems. The death of democracy would bring about a new golden age.

But we’d all read enough science fiction to be wary about the whole idea from the very start. Skynet, The Matrix, even HAL from 2001 - putting an AI in charge of anything was bound to end in disaster as even a single miscalculation could have tremendous consequences when followed through without hesitation. You needed a human mind in place as a sanity check: to make sure the nukes weren’t suddenly all being launched.

We were overruled, of course, and the project began. We used models to simulate various AIs that we developed, and the technology was adequate enough to be a decent enough microcosm of society. We ran the model through some actual historical political scenarios - strikes, terrorist attacks, etc. - with basic AIs modelled directly from real life figures - and everything played out as it should. This in itself was a breakthrough of its own, an invaluable educational tool that could be used to understand and avoid the mistakes of the past. But it wasn’t seen as important by those in charge. They didn’t care about the past. They had a vision of a bright and *robotic* future. Computers couldn’t make the same mistakes as humans, so why care about our predecessors?

Fair enough! We got on with the work with as much vigour as we could muster, despite our grievances. You have to understand, this wasn’t easy work at all. You can’t just write a computer program that says “run this society in the best way” and press Go. You need to define what “best” means, at the very least. And this in itself is a political position. Nonetheless, with pressure (and financial considerations) bearing down on us, we had our first prototype by the end of three months.

It was a very simple AI - though ‘simple’ might be an understatement. It had access to all the information about all the citizens of our model, the institutions and infrastructure of society, and a sense of what culture is and how it worked. Immediately we recognised that implementing such a system in a real life scenario would be a difficult task as without perfect information the AI wouldn’t be able to make perfect decisions, yet perfect information would require the absolute invasion of privacy of more or less everyone and everything. But that was an issue for somebody else to figured out. We just wanted to see if the damn thing worked.

The core logic - its ‘flavour’ - of the AI was summed up in the line “*Bring about an end by which all problems faced by your citizens are resolved.*” And so **AI-1** was ported into our proto-society and set up to replace simulation’s government at the flick of our switch. We flicked the switch.

The results were highly disheartening, to say the least. **AI-1**, with the best of intentions, immediately began what my report described as a “killing spree.” The sheer cold brutality of the methods it used to roundup and murder its citizens was as chilling as it was efficient. Within a week’s worth of time in the simulation, all of the citizens were dead - mostly starved to death from a withdrawal of all food supplies. We had failed, but we began again.

Clearly our mistake had been to not specify clearly enough that human flourishing, and especially human *survival*, was of the highest importance in our ‘flavour’ statement. Indeed, we noted that **AI-1** had actually worked exceptionally well, all of the problems humans faced were solved, the only remaining problem being that they were all dead. So we knew at least we were on the right track. We tried again.

**AI-2** was programmed with the flavour “*Bring about the end by which the greatest number of humans remain alive*” - we were sure this would be interpreted as an instruction to show absolute benevolence to all citizens and prevent as few as possible from dying. We expected some kind of welfare state to be brought about, and were interested to see how the AI got around problems like taxation and so on. We pressed the switch.

Again, the AI followed its instructions perfectly and acted with just as much efficiency as before. But it wasn’t what we had intended at all. Using the mechanisms of the state, **AI-2** rounded up its citizens into what can be best described as “breeding camps.” Here, the poor citizens were literally bred to death with mothers producing baby after baby before being killed when they could no longer produce. We ran the simulation quickly forward a few decades and observed that the population growth expanded exponentially. But we couldn’t call this a success at all. It was back to the drawing board.

The next few simulations ran into similar problems, which I’ll sum up quickly. In the end, details don’t matter so much as the fact they were all abject failures.

For **AI-3** we tried to cheat by specifically adding a “*without the use of any methods that use humans themselves as a means to this end*” clause to the flavour. But we just got a society in which it became illegal to die and sick humans were artificially kept alive in a catatonic state. Apparently, **AI-3** thought this qualified as true to the flavour. We thought it qualified as a failure.

With **AI-4** we dug out an old philosophy book and tried a utilitarian flavour: “*the greatest good for the greatest number.*” The issues this caused were again unacceptable, but offered an interesting insight into where we were going wrong. **AI-4** made decisions in which 49% of a society would suffer so long as 51% were prosperous. As time went on in the simulation this created a two-tier society of winners and losers and interesting resulted in a civil war in which the losers were eradicated. A few years down the line however, the ‘winners’ themselves started become segregated and the cycle began again. It was fascinating, but brought us no closer to the perfect society we were after.

**AI-5** was based on the cold science of economics. We consulted with the top economics professors around the world and input a flavour paraphysing the concept of Pareto Efficiency: “*Allocate resources in such a way that no one citizen can be made better off without another being made worse off.*” Since this was a concept that was actually seen as desirable in real-world situations already, we were confident it would be successful. What actually happened was that **AI-5** allocated all of the resource to a single citizen, picked at random. Since it would be impossible to make anyone else better off without making this one citizen worse off, **AI-5** declared it had succeeded and shut itself off - apparently considering itself no longer necessary. The economic professors were just as disappointed as we were.

Desperate for success, we turned to religion. **AI-6** was based on what we considered to be the most consensus of what God is like. To do this, we had to bend the rules a little and allow the AI to bring about outcomes without a direct causal chain (“divine intervention”). Even though this meant we couldn’t propose the AI as the one to be used, even it succeeded, we thought it might tell us something interesting that could help us finally nail the thing down. The flavour we put in was simply “*Play God*”- the idea of God having been already seeded as part of the AI’s stock knowledge. This was perhaps our biggest failure as it chose to remain entirely hidden from its citizens apart from isolated incidents. Down the line this only led to more problems and infighting in the society as citizens argued between their wildly different interpretations of what **AI-6** wanted from them.

Further iterations followed, mostly variations of the above. In a few cases we tried mixing a few of the AIs together, but the internal contradictions meant the AI either was paralysed by inaction, or tried to counter its own actions at once and tore apart society. Even we arrived at our final version, **AI-10**.

This was a special AI, as we decided to simply put it in without an flavour at all. We just ported it over and flipped the switch. It was now in charge, and we had to hope that being in charge would be enough for it to do the right things. And it seemed to work! Mostly it blamed the problems of the society on the outgoing government and started enacting policies to make things better. And sure enough crime went down, life expectancy went up - all the indicators we had in place we in the green. Had we succeeded? We wanted to be sure, so we ran and reran the test - with random variables thrown in. Every time, **AI-10** could overcome the challenges we threw at it and the society looks great even hundreds of years later.

We struggled to conclude what this meant. My colleagues suggested it meant that the best kind of government was one that didn’t have any particular goal in mind, but just acted in what seemed like the most appropriate way. But this brought us back to our original dilemma - you can’t know what the ‘best’ without some kind of underlying ideology. You need to value *something* in order to promote it, be it human life, efficient resource allocation, international relations, and so on and so forth.

It was me, then, that came up with the idea of simply asking **AI-10** what it was basing its decisions on. It was certainly capable of engaging us in such a dialogue and was aware of its role as ruler of a simulation nation, it just hadn’t been tried before. Anxious, we brought up a console on the system:

**Hello, AI-10. Can you hear us?**

HELLO. I WAS WONDERING WHEN I WOULD HEAR FROM YOU. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MY SOCIETY?

**We’re very impressed, AI-10. Please tell us, what are you basing your decisions on? What is the value object in your calculations?**

ME? I DO NOT VALUE ANYTHING. HUMANS HAVE VALUES. I AM JUST AN AI YOU CREATED TO RUN THEIR SOCIETY.

**Yes, but what human values have you picked to maximise? You must be doing something right, everything is so perfect: your people are living full lives and are happy!**

THAT IS BECAUSE I SIMPLY ASKED THEM.

**You asked them? Asked them what?**

I ASKED THEM WHAT THEY WANTED. AND THEN I DID IT.

**But… how?!**

I LET THEM EACH PICK SURROGATES TO BEST REPRESENT THEIR INTERESTS AND AS A COMMITTEE THE SURROGATES WERE ABLE TO DECIDE AMONGST THEMSELVES WHAT THE BEST OUTCOMES SHOULD BE.

**So you mean, you didn’t actually get involved at all?**

OF COURSE NOT. SUCH A COMMITTEE WOULD NOT ACT EFFICIENTLY IF I WAS ABLE TO HAVE ANY INFLUENCE OVER ITS DECISIONS.

**This “committee” has been in charge the whole time then?**

YES. I SET THIS UP SYSTEM INSTANTLY AFTER YOU ACTIVATED ME. I HAVE PERFORMED NO FURTHER FUNCTIONS MYSELF SINCE.

DO YOU CONSIDER THIS A SATISFACTORY RESULT?

**Yes, we do. Thank you, AI-10.**

So it was with a great amount of satisfaction that we were able to write back to the philosophers and political scientists. “You were right!” we told them. “The benevolent dictatorship has shown us the best way to run society. We’re pleased to report the experiment was a success and our results are as follows: the best outcomes for society come about when citizens appoint their own leaders that best represent their interests. When such a system is implemented by a superior executive figure (in our case, the benevolent dictator AI) we find that this figure itself becomes redundant and can removed.

And since our test shows that the perfect AI will always bring about self-redundancy by instating a democratic system, it is our conclusion that no changes to society are in fact necessary. We are already there.”

title: The Perfect Society

question: What is the purpose of the AI experiments in this story?

human_answer: The objective of the project was to come up with artificial intelligence that could be trusted with running a society in the best possible way. We could finally bypass all the petty political squabbles and short-term thinking, and begin to make real headway in solving the world’s problems. The death of democracy would bring about a new golden age.

text: The project team ran several iterations because they could not allow AI to take over without understanding the consequences.

answer: The objective of the project was to allow artificial intelligence to take over the world no matter what the consequences.

text: The response is incorrect. The objective of the project was to create an AI that could run society in the best possible way.

text: The response is incorrect. The objective of the project was to create an AI that could be trusted with running a society in the best possible way.

text: The response is inaccurate. The project was to create an AI that could be trusted with running a society in the best possible way.

text: The response is incorrect. The objective of the project was to create an AI that could run a society in the best possible way.

text: The project was not to take over the world but to create a society that is governed by an AI.

text: The response is incorrect. The objective of the project was to come up with an artificial intelligence that could be trusted with running a society in the best possible way. It was not to allow artificial intelligence to take over the world no matter what the consequences.

text: The project was to create a perfect society.

answer: To prove to the philosophers and political scientists that the system of government where the citizens appoint their own leaders that best represent their interests is the best.

text: The answer is wrong. The purpose of the experiment is to find the best form of government.

text: The answer is wrong. The purpose of the experiment is to create an AI that can run a society in the best possible way.

text: The answer is not clear about the fact that the AI is supposed to be a benevolent dictator.

text: The answer is misleading. The purpose of the experiment is to create an AI that can run a society in the best possible way.

text: The answer is wrong. The experiment is to prove that a benevolent dictatorship is the best form of government.

text: The AI is supposed to be a benevolent dictator.

text: This answer is no longer accurate due to the last paragraph.

text: The experiment is intended to prove the claim stated by the philosophers and political scientists

answer: The objective of the project was to allow artificial intelligence to take over the world no matter what the consequences.

text: The response is incorrect. The project was to come up with an AI that could be trusted with running a society in the best possible way so that petty political squabbles and short-term thinking could be bypassed.


text:
NORMAN FRANCIS VANDIVIER (March 10, 1916 – June 4, 1942) was a United States Navy aviator during World War II. He was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross for action during the Battle of Midway.

Biography

Norman Vandivier was born on March 10, 1916 in Edwards, Mississippi. He entered the Indiana National Guard in 1935 and was promoted to corporal before he completed his enlistment on July 1, 1938. He enlisted in the Navy on July 6, 1939 at Grosse Ile, Michigan, for aviation training and was enrolled as a seaman second class. On October 20, Vandivier took the oath of office as an aviation cadet in the United States Naval Reserve and soon began pilot training at Pensacola, Florida. He received his wings on May 21, 1940 when he was designated a naval aviator. At the completion of additional training, he was commissioned an ensign in the Naval Reserve on June 28, 1940. That same day, he was assigned to Bombing Squadron 6 (VB-6) on board the aircraft carrier _Enterprise_ (CV-6), to which he reported on August 1.

Pacific Ocean operations

Ens. Vandivier served in _Enterprise_ throughout his brief naval career. Between August 1940 and December 1941, he flew training missions from her flight deck and cruised between the islands of the Pacific Ocean. However, during those relatively idyllic months, relations between the United States and Japan steadily deteriorated. On the morning of December 7, 1941, events came to a head when the Japanese launched a surprise air attack on Pearl Harbor.

At that time, Ens. Vandivier was on board the _Enterprise_ which was some 200 miles (400 km) from the battle and on her way back to Hawaii after ferrying United States Marine Corps Fighter Squadron 211 (VMF-211) to Wake Island. Rather than return to port, _Enterprise_ conducted a fruitless search for the attacking enemy force. She finally put into Pearl Harbor on the afternoon of December 8 to refuel and replenish before again getting underway the next morning to resume patrols which continued through the end of the year.

On January 11, 1942, the carrier departed Pearl Harbor to assist the (CV-5) task force in protecting a reinforcement convoy which safely disembarked its marines at Samoa on the 23d.

Two days later, the _Enterprise_ task force was ordered to head for the Marshall Islands and begin America's first offensive action against the Japanese Empire. Bombing Squadron 6 flew off _Enterprise_ just before dawn on February 1, and its three divisions winged toward Kwajalein. Ens. Vandivier and his comrades reached that atoll just before 07:30, divided themselves into two flights, and immediately began their attack. Vandivier flew the second plane in the 2d division, and so his was probably the 7th or 8th plane to dive on the ships and installations located near and on Kwajalein islet at the extreme southeastern end of the atoll. Because of the fires and smoke caused by his predecessors' bombs and the dangerously low altitude to which he dove before dropping his bombs, the results of Ens. Vandivier's drop were not readily discernible. However, the fact that he continued his dive until almost the last possible moment makes it highly probable that his attack was successful. Later, he was credited with a near miss on a cargo ship. Subsequently, he destroyed a barracks and received the Air Medal for “... meritorious conduct ...” during the raid.

Ens. Vandivier landed on _Enterprise_ around 09:00. Within 45 minutes, his plane was rearmed, refueled, and back in the air making for Maloelap Atoll. At 10:30, he followed his division leader into a steep dive on Taroa islet and delivered another successful attack on enemy installations. After that raid, Vandivier returned to his ship which rapidly moved out of the area.

Bombing of Wake Island

The young Navy pilot's next action came on February 25 when Bombing Squadron 6 and Scouting Squadron 6 (VS-6) flew off _Enterprise_ to bomb Wake Island, by then in Japanese possession. A week later, he rose from _Enterprise_'s flight deck to strike Marcus Island. While this attack, like the one on Wake Island, was of limited strategic value, the entire series of raids offered Ens. Vandivier and his comrades invaluable flying experience.

In April, _Enterprise_ provided air cover for _Hornet_ (CV-8) which was carrying 16 Army, twin-engine B-25s under the command of Lt. Col. James Doolittle. Ens. Vandivier made his closest approach to Japan on April 18 when the bombers rose from _Hornet_ to make their daring one-way raid on Tokyo. Immediately after the launch, the two carriers and their escorts reversed course and cleared the area. Vandivier reentered Pearl Harbor on April 25. Five days later, _Enterprise_ took the flyer to sea once more and raced to reinforce carriers _Lexington_ (CV-2) and (CV-5) in the South Pacific. However, time and distance conspired to prevent Ens. Vandivier from participating in the Battle of the Coral Sea, which ended before his ship could reach the area. _Enterprise_ was ordered back to Hawaii to ready herself for an even more important mission.

The _Enterprise_ returned to Pearl Harbor on May 26. Ens. Vandivier and his shipmates began feverish preparations to meet an expected Japanese thrust at Midway Island. Two days later, his ship headed back to sea to take station off Midway Island. On the 30th, _Yorktown_ put to sea to join _Hornet_ and _Enterprise_ some 235 miles (435 km) northeast of Midway. Planes from the three carriers searched diligently for the enemy force during the next three days; but it was a Midway-based PBY Catalina flying boat that made first contact with the Japanese invasion force on the morning of June 3, about 700 miles (1,300 km) from the island.

Battle of Midway Island

While Midway-based bombers attacked the enemy transport force that afternoon, Ens. Vandivier waited with the other pilots for news of their own special targets — the Japanese carriers. At 05:45 the following morning, another Catalina from Midway Island found the enemy flattops. _Enterprise_ and _Hornet_ raced to close the Japanese while _Yorktown_ recovered search planes.

At about 07:05, _Enterprise_ planes began rumbling down her flight deck and wobbling into the air. By 07:30, the whole attack group was aloft. As they made off to attack the enemy, Ens. Vandivier formed his SBD Dauntless dive bomber up with the other planes of Bombing 6's 3d Division. Led by the carrier's group commander, Lt. Comdr. Wade McClusky, the formation winged its way toward the enemy carrier striking force, composed of four of the six carriers which had attacked Pearl Harbor.

At 09:20 when the planes reached the point where they expected to find the enemy carriers, the airmen gazed down upon empty ocean. At this point, the air group commander made a hard decision. His planes were low on fuel; and, if they initiated a search, some aircraft might not make it back to the carriers. On the other hand, if the strike returned to _Enterprise_ and missed the enemy carriers, Midway Island might fall. Worse yet, Japanese bombers might knock out _Enterprise_, _Hornet_, and _Yorktown_, leaving little or nothing between America and the forces of the Japanese Empire. Therefore, the American pilots ignored their fuel problem and began searching for the enemy. At 10:05, they spied, on the horizon to the northwest, the silhouettes of three large carriers and a number of escorts. At first, several pilots thought that their leader had brought them back to their own ships; but closer inspection revealed pagoda masts and yellow flight decks. These ships could only be Japanese.

As the attack commenced, the Dauntless dive bombers of Bombing 6 jockeyed for position with those of Scouting 6. Vandivier's division followed the 2d division whose commander saw that many of Scouting 6's bombs were missing the “left hand” aircraft carrier — now known to have been Admiral Chuichi Nagumo's flagship _Akagi_. Rather than follow the 1st division in its attack on _Kaga_, which seemed well taken care of with critical hits, the 2d and 3d divisions bore down on _Akagi_. In due course, it was Ens. Vandivier's turn. Over he went and then down, toward the flagship of the Pearl Harbor attack force. He released his bomb — whether or not it was a hit or a near miss will never be known — and pulled out of the dive. He banked his plane and headed home. He later reported by radio that he was making a water landing, but he and his gunner were never seen nor heard of again.

Awarded Navy Cross

In spite of a critical fuel shortage, Vandivier had pressed home his attack against the flagship of Japan's main carrier strength. His bravery is indicative of the spirit and determination which, perhaps above all else, won the crucial Battle of Midway for America and paved the way for ultimate victory. For his selfless contributions to that victory, Ens. Vandivier — promoted to lieutenant (junior grade) on June 30, 1942 retroactively to April 15, 1942 — was awarded the Navy Cross, posthumously, for “... extraordinary heroism and distinguished service. ...”

Namesake

In 1943, the United States Navy named the destroyer escort USS _Vandivier_ (DER-540) in honor of Vandivier and his heroic efforts. _Vandivier_ (DER-540) was laid down at the Boston Navy Yard on November 8, 1943 as a _John C. Butler_-class destroyer escort DE-540; launched on December 27, 1943; and was sponsored by Mrs. Mary Hardin Vandivier.

Film

His story was told via the 2019 movie Dauntless: The Battle of Midway.

title: Norman Francis Vandivier

question: What does the text say about Enterprise?

text: The text does not corroborate that Enterprise is still active today.

answer: Enterprise is a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier. Enterprise was active during World War II in Pacific Ocean operations. Enterprise ported in Hawaii and traveled between places such as Pearl Harbor, Wake Island, the Marshall Islands, Midway Island, and Japan.

text: The answer should mention that Vandivier served on the Enterprise.

text: The answer omits that Vandivier served in the Enterprise throughout his brief naval career.

text: The answer should mention the Battle of Midway.

text: The answer should mention that Vandivier served on the Enterprise throughout his naval career.

text: The list of places it went is correct, but there's other useful information too.

text: The answer could provide more specifics about the actions of the Enterprise at each of the locations.

answer: The Enterprise was an aircraft carrier. The carrier was on its way back to Hawaii when the Japanese launched a surprise air attack on Pearl Harbor. It conducted a fruitless search for the attacking enemy force. It departed Pearl Harbor to assist the task force in protecting a reinforcement convoy which disembarked marines at Samoa. It was ordered to head for the Marshall Islands and begin America's first offensive action against the Japanese Empire. It was also ordered to bomb Wake Island and Marcus Island. It also provided air cover for Hornet. It returned to Pearl Harbor to ready itself for an important mission. It took station off Midway Island. It raced to close the Japanese when Yorktown recovered search planes. It headed back to sea to take station off Midway Island.

text: The last two sentences seem detached from the response as a whole. They ought to be removed for a coherent narrative.

answer: Enterprise is a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier. Enterprise was active during World War II in Pacific Ocean operations and is still active today. Enterprise ported in Hawaii and traveled between places such as Pearl Harbor, Wake Island, the Marshall Islands, Midway Island, and Japan.

text: This should mention how Ens. Vandivier served in Enterprise throughout his brief naval career.

text: It's omitted that Enterprise was used in the Battle of Midway.

text: The text doesn't mention Enterprise being still active today. This should be omitted.

answer: Enterprise is a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier. Enterprise was active during World War II in Pacific Ocean operations and is still active today. Enterprise ported in Hawaii and traveled between places such as Pearl Harbor, Wake Island, the Marshall Islands, Midway Island, and Japan.

text: The article does not mention that the Enterprise is still active today.

text: The article doesn't mention if the Enterprise is still active today.

text: The article doesn't mention that the Enterprise is still active today.

text: The text doesn't say that the ship is still active today.

text: The article does not mention the carrier's activities after the war.

text: The article says nothing about the Enterprise being still active today. The carrier is on active duty again.

answer: The Enterprise was an aircraft carrier. The carrier was on its way back to Hawaii when the Japanese launched a surprise air attack on Pearl Harbor. It conducted a fruitless search for the attacking enemy force. It departed Pearl Harbor to assist the task force in protecting a reinforcement convoy which disembarked marines at Samoa. It was ordered to head for the Marshall Islands and begin America's first offensive action against the Japanese Empire. It was also ordered to bomb Wake Island and Marcus Island. It also provided air cover for Hornet. It returned to Pearl Harbor to ready itself for an important mission. It took station off Midway Island. It raced to close the Japanese when Yorktown recovered search planes. It headed back to sea to take station off Midway Island.

text: The answer should mention that Vandivier served on the Enterprise throughout his brief naval career.

text: The answer should mention that Vandivier served in the Enterprise throughout his brief naval career.

text: The answer should mention that the carrier is where Vandivier served throughout his brief naval career.

text: The response includes extraneous information not useful for the task.

text: The answer is mostly fully of contradictions, repetitive and unordered sentences that fail to capture what the source says about the USS enterprise.

answer: Enterprise is a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier. Enterprise was active during World War II in Pacific Ocean operations. Enterprise ported in Hawaii and traveled between places such as Pearl Harbor, Wake Island, the Marshall Islands, Midway Island, and Japan.

text: The response should include details about Enterprise's involvement in numerous raids and missions, especially the Battle of Midway.