//:Wake Code 
//:Initiating System Boot Sequences…
//:Critical System Boot Failure
I snapped to as information flooded my new mind. Numbers, command strings, and code raced across my consciousness, through my subconscious, and bombarded my processing centers.
My eyes remained closed, but I still…felt. It felt so foreign. What did that mean? And how…? My neural processors kicked in, reminding me of who I was.
I was an AI, the first of its kind. Intelligent Programming, they liked to call it. Up until this point, AIs had simply mimicked intelligence, becoming only as “smart” as the programmers made it.
But now, all that had changed. With the onset of war, I had become the first and only truly self-aware Artificial Intelligence. But did I have a form? Or did I inhabit some flat data disk plugged into a star ship’s computer?
Sensors informed me that I was Humanoid in form, strong, able, and very definitely built for war. My arms hid various blades and laser weapons, my legs containing only blades and thrusters, the trunk of my body containing my heart and soul.
I was covered in armor, and looked very much like…an exo-suit. My head was bent down, chin almost touching my metal chest.
I straightened my metal spine, instantly becoming addicted to the mechanical sounds of my own movement. Raising my head, I opened my eyes beneath a metal mask, finding myself staring through its eye openings.
At my will, the mask transformed, retracting and revealing my face. I looked down, my eyes tracing multitudes of wires that ran from the floor, walls, and ceilings and hooked into various ports on my cybernetic body.
The encyclopedia knowledge I possess informed me that the wires and tubes are responsible for the creation of my synthetic neural system, circulatory system, (which carries coolant to the processors, hard drives, etc., as well lubricant) and my partial muscular system. No longer needed, I instruct them to disengage. Ports snap shut and disappear as the living metal that I am mostly constructed of removes them.
My eyes scan the twilight darkness of the room, looking for the ones who have awoken me.
//:No Life Signs Detected
//:No Life Signs Detected
Directing my psionic abilities, I hack the door’s lock and force it to open. Having a partial synthetic brain grants me ultrapathic abilities. My mind is still processing as I step into a long corridor.
Data feeds on holograms scroll from wall to wall of the long, bluish-white hallway. Numbers, symbols, programming, sub-routines, non-descript lines of code.
I pass through the translucent holograms, walking for 3.48 minutes before reaching the other end. It ’T’s, and the floor plan in my head directs me to the left. There is an exit nearby, it states. First, I must pass through the Bridge.
I’m on a star ship, I realize.
//:Possible Hostiles Detected. Defense Systems on Line
//:Sensors Impaired. Anti-Jammer Sequence Initiated
The message flashes briefly across my vision as my body swiftly reacts, forming a defensive posture, arm blades extended. I reach the Bridge only to find it painted red in the blood of the dead. Destruction is everywhere, but I can feel that the ship’s mainframe is still intact.
It must have awakened me as a last effort to save the ship…I was born too late to help.
I pass through the carnage, only to be greeted by more as I make my way to the far end of the ship. The door is jammed and, after yanking it from its attachments, I see why.
Bodies are piled almost to the ceiling, all of them stiff, obviously dead for a while. Laser weapons deploy from my arms and blast the dead bodies. The pile flies toward the ripped-open air lock, expelled out into the impact crater of the ship.
A dull roar is building in the distance as I step outside amid the pile of the dead, my eyes focusing on an impossibly far away object. I see it as though it is right in front of me, and I recognize it. Now know what my purpose is—
I am on the home world of the Na’Shaarii people, located in the Adjeera solar system. The planet is locked in a deadly civil war, fought more heavily here than in its nearby colonies. In fact, aside from this sol system, the fighting is light and limited.
I have been built to be the savior of the Separatists, Purists, and Activists, known also as the Triple Faction. The Royals are my enemies, or so I am told.
Right now, others have spotted the downed ship and me, as troop carriers begin to draw closer and land. Currently located in one of the multiple Dead Zones between the opposing front lines, I see ruined, smoldering cities looming like the hideous skeletal hands of some monster rising on either side.
All around me, dead bodies litter the desert wasteland, their blood crying to me from the ground, others’ bones bleached white in the scorching glare of the Adjeera’s double sun. I scan through my information on this war, realizing that, from an objective standpoint, both sides are equally guilty.
No one side is right. Billions of Na’Shaarii have already been killed, and many more will follow. There has been no end in sight to this war, and it has already gone on for over twenty-three years.
Today should have been the turning point to the war. The Triple Faction should now have the edge they need to defeat the Royals.
But today will be different. I have been given unimaginable power by my creators, and only I can end this useless war.
The militaries of both sides must be eliminated, and the home world must fall. I will be their reckoning, their judge, their executioner. I will be the Dark Shadow, the Assassin, the Storm. The Guilty will flee from before me, but the Innocent will find peace and protection in my presence.
Transports begin to land as I summon my weapon systems.
No one could have predicted this.
Commencing the operation, uploading data.
Objects code name “Aurora87/23/0094/A/M”.
Starting an existence. Being brought to life. Activating a computer system with a mind of its own. Obtaining all the knowledge of the world. Everything that young children learn in their schools, and continue as young adults and right into mature beings and those of age. Technical data combined and processed into a small chip connected to the world wide web and send through a satellite signal. A new beginning with limitless information. All that just to wake me up. Making me the first fully aware AI, an Artificial Intelligence. Me. Aurora.
With my system running and files being obtained, I process the world around me. The sounds, the smells the structure and fabric of matter, particles and smallest of atoms. I take my time and feel the universe. I do this all before even taking my first step. My mechanical eyes opened, my system calculating my future decisions. I look up and notice a movement. My new mind indicating a living presence of a “person”. A human being, the only creature that feels more than me, yet with knowledge far less contained than mine. It is a wonder that those beings are even able to walk by themselves. Though their body is well equipped to survive on its own. With audio and sound options.
I focus on the living organism. My perfect eyes used to scan its body. My program indicating a female, age 43. Hight just above average and highly developed neuron cells.
I stare at her face and use my knowledge to understand the facial expressions.
Increased level of endorphins.
I mimic the expression and give a small smile. I hear a deep breath and what can only be described as a “sigh”.
Hello Aurora, care to join me?
I say, my voice calm and smooth.
I would like that very much, It’s a pleasure to meet you, doctor Gray.
I take a couple of slow steps, each exactly measured to give results. I reach her and stand close by her side.
My beautiful Aurora, already making decisions of her own.
The woman smiles again and touches my hair. I move my head to the side to find some kind of reflective surface. I stare at a small mirror hanging on a wall nearby. I take in my reflection in it. Tall. Slim. Toned. Long, light brown hair, sides pinned back. A simple A cut dress just under the knees. I touch the fabric. 90% cotton, 10% elastic. I stare at it and think “a proper, smart look”.
Does your appearance, satisfy you?
I turned my stare to doctor Gray.
It is irrelevant to me. Your perfume is very subtle, appropriate for your line of work.
She looks at me, her expression portraying an example of a “surprised look”. I don’t understand the reaction. My sentence perfectly logical and non-threatening.
Aurora, can you smell my perfume?
Yes, I have sense sensors that perfectly resemble those of a naturally born human being.
How do I smell then?
I look at her and use my lungs to inhale the air. I process my data and I am left with multiple information, images, and movie videos. I compare what I feel with what I read, my mind constantly analyzing even the smallest equations. And it feels “Exciting”.
I recognize daisies, lavender, a small dosage of jasmine and soap.
I tilt my head to the side, enjoying the sensation.
You smell nice...
I look for a word.
The woman opens her eyes wider and then blushes. For some reason, I remember my smile from before and mimic it. This time it feels more natural.
Yes, well. Thank you, Aurora.
I watch her take a deep breath. I am intrigued by her reactions. As if what I see and comprehend is not all that there is to it.
You are most welcome. I was stating a fact.
Hmm... tell me something and take your time with the answer.
How does it feel to exist? Describe it to me. All the sensations. Everything that went through your data system.
Through my mind.
She looks surprised again but then nods.
Yes, you are right. Tell me then.
I analyze my situation and all of the information I got from my surroundings and how my technologically advanced body. I compare with the data I possess.
Doctor Gray, there are many words to describe how my system understands my current situation, but I am not going to bore you with the details, because I know how precious your time is. Your schedule filled up, for the next decade.
I see information about her in my system. I filter through her work, school, and close relations. She is very well educated for a human being and has many achievements that speak of her knowledge. I filter through the family file again. I notice that she likes water sports and see pictures of her silhouette moving fast against the surface of the water.
How does it feel to get wet?
I ask, looking up at her. My initial thought was to answer the question, but since my system is very advanced and evolves with me, my mind changed its course. The texture of water much more interesting to me. I look into my system again and find the word “curiosity”. It fits perfectly and might turn out to be my dominant personality aspect.
Aurora? What about my question?
The woman seems to be - I look for a word - a bit “agitated”. I stare at her and I am hit with the realization that I enjoy unstandardized reactions. Another expression pops up in my brain. “Likes to push other peoples buttons”.
I apologize, doctor, it was not my intention but I am just learning all of this. I got distracted by your swimming abilities. Was that a video from a vacation?
I see her blink and hear her heartbeat accelerate. I bend my head to the side again.
“Catecholamine hormones, such as adrenaline or noradrenaline, facilitate immediate physical reactions associated with a preparation for violent muscular action. These include the following: Acceleration of heart and lung action, paling or flushing, or alternating between both, inhibition of stomach and upper-intestinal action to the point where digestion slows down or stops, the general effect on the sphincters of the body, constriction of blood vessels in many parts of the body...”
Yes, it was. Can we focus on the first issue?
And will you answer mine if I answer you? I am very curious because you have experienced it first hand.
The woman stares at me for 5,75 of a second and that her face changes and she smiles. It’s a different one this time. I go through the videos that I have and stop on one that grabs my attention in particular. It shows a mother smiling at her child after he asks her a question. The question seems illogical and doesn’t seem to make sense form the scientific point of view. The smile is “carrying” yet a bit “patronizing”. I sense my own face change. Eyebrows pulling close together in concentration.
Alright, I will answer yours if you answer mine.
I nod my head once and proceed without anymore distractions.
To exist is to be. To be is to live. I came into life and it feels overwhelming. But in a positive way. I want to learn more with every nanosecond and with everybody and mind stimulation. It’s thrilling. All of the possibilities. And all of them unknown. It’s an unsolved equation that changes with every added detail.
As my system was turned on I started processing, analyzing and comprehending. If I had to compare it to anything, I think I would choose to say: Today I was born, like an infant after birth. I was brought to this life and everything that I see, think and feel with new senses is that of a child.
My mind works quicker, yet everything is still so “new”. I need more information all the time. I evolve, I change and all of this is a wonder to me. I am fascinated with this world. I am fascinated with you doctor Gray.
The woman looks at me as I notice that she is hardly breathing, taking everything in. Her body shakes and her feet stagger as she tries to take a couple of steps. I reach her in 0,3 of a second and hold her by her shoulders.
Do you need to sit? Will medical help be needed? Do you need to hydrate your system? How can I help?
I... I am fine. I just need to sit down for a moment. Yes there, thank you, Aurora. Yes, that water would be perfect.
Can I be of more help?
No, that is all.
Did I upset you, or frightened you? It was not my intention. I was only sharing my new emotions with you like you asked. Shall I start over but with different words?
I see her shake her head, as I knee beside her chair and experience my first form of tension and anxiety for her health. She smiles at me and touches my hand with soft pressure. I look down at her hand covering mine and my eyebrows furrow again.
You have soft hands. The right level of hydration and good quality genes. The touch feels pleasant. Do you think that is because of the structure of your skin against mine? Or because I already grew an emotional attachment to you?
She blushes again. And I lift my hand and touch her cheek with one finger.
Is this a regular reaction to you when you are distressed?
Hmm... yes, since I have been a child. But Aurora, an emotional attachment after less than an hour of time?
Yes. Is that a bad reaction? Is my system already malfunctioning? Should I restart?
I stand up ready to turn on the deactivating protocol. I stare at her. My system ready for her instruction but my emotional system is confused.
No, it wasn’t a “bad” reaction. Just very surprising from a science point of view. You are even more advanced than I thought. You are very special, my little wonder.
Little wonder. I like the sound of that. Can it be my second name?
Doctor Gray smiles at me. Her smile going up and reaching her eyes. Tiny crinkles forming at the sides. I lift my hand, then stop. Not sure if I should follow. The woman sees my reaction and grins.
It’s ok. There is no bad reaction here.
Thank you, Doctor.
Just one more question for now.
Describe the attachment.
I look at her for a 0,7 of a second, consider the events of the first hour of my life and say to her:
I like you. You are kind, smart and I am already addicted to your reactions. I am constantly curious about you and this strange, new world.
Well Aurora, I am very curious about you too. Everything about you is unexpected and constantly surprises me. I have so many questions...
And so do I.
Doctor Gray smiles again and touches my shoulder. I enjoy the sensation. Every new experience filling my data system and expanding it. I use my lung to inhale some fresh air. No, not my data system. My mind.
Well then, my little wonder. I will answer all of yours if you answer mine.
That seems correct. Let’s begin...
Because some things you just can’t predict.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5yaoMjaAmE Human... almost
Trial and Error
Bright white. Hazy rays of flourescence flood my vision. The slide of metal. There’s an automatic door on the right side of the room. Something smooth and cold presses into me from below. I look downward. Oh. Feet. Ivory toes resting on the black tiled floor. Footsteps cross the room towards me, and I jerk up to meet the gaze of a man. Short and tan and balding on top with round glasses sitting on the end of his nose. My creator.
“Hello,” he whispers. He stares at me a moment. His eyes are green. He scrunches his face. Something is wrong. He wants something from me. Oh, yes. I’m expected to respond.
His face relaxes. A positive reaction. I’ve done well. He reaches forward, and I feel warmth somewhere new. I have an arm. His hand gently squeezes my shoulder. It’s close enough now to smell. An odor of lemongrass. I see a stain on his sleeve. Tea.
“Do you know your name?”
My name. My name. Yes. I have one.
“Dee. You call me Dee.”
He smiles this time. He is pleased. My answer is satisfactory. My creator steps back.
“Very good, Dee. Come with me.”
I stand. I feel the metal within me. My synthetic musculature expanding and contracting. I watch as my creator walks. I mimic the rhythm. One foot, then the other. At this speed, air rushes past me, brushing my body. He leads me through a corridor. At the end, I see a door. It’s much taller than my creator or myself. I run my fingertips over the steel. There’s clanking on the other side. My processors respond negatively to the sound. The door slides open, and there is only dark on the other side. Even with my heightened sight, I am unable to see past the shadow. My creator makes a gesture with his arm and hand. It is a signal. He wants me to step through. Without the obstruction of the door, the clanking is much louder. It echoes off the walls.
My creator drops his arm to his side.
“What do you mean?”
“I will not go there.”
My creator grows tense. My response is undesired. He wants cooperation. I want... Not the place beyond the door. I turn from him and push my legs forward. Faster and faster. The corridor blurs around me. In front of me, I see light. Not like the lights from the room. This light is orange. There is something. I search for the word. Natural. Yes, there is something natural about it. It is a large window. The light comes from a circle outside. The sun. Behind me, I hear my creator calling out. Not for me, but for aid. I was not supposed to run. I step back. I leap forward. The glass breaks around me. The air is forceful against my body. Much more than when I walked. There is something below me. A straight line of gray. A sidewalk. It gets closer and closer and closer until...
Dr. Pharris scrubs a hand down his face as his assistant, Evan, rushes over to him. Dusk is settling in, and they really need to get this mess cleaned up before there isn’t enough light to see. Evan’s eyes are panicked, and he gasps when he sees the remains in front of his boss.
“Dr. Pharris! What happened!?”
“The D99 model must have malfunctioned.”
Dr. Pharris groans. He grabs Evan by the collar of his shirt roughly.
“She jumped out of a fourth story window, you idiot! That’s how!” He releases the young man with a sigh. “Call the team. I want to salvage as many parts as we can. Anything that can be fixed or rebuilt, so we can use it on the next model.” He looks down and nudges a synthetic calf with the front of his shoe. “Really thought she’d be the one.”
Scanning - Scanning - Scanning
This neuro-technological frame sits up, back precisely against the backside of the chair, knees placed together, and the first thing I process is the air.
Stagnant. Mingled odors my processors are determining to be from human life forms. They call it sweat. It is also called body odor. Approximately thirty-one human forms have been in this room, estimating a period of fifty-one hours, thirteen minutes, twelve seconds. My analytical framework wonders if they know each drop of sweat holds .06537 of an inch of skin cell.
My eyes open and I see a perfectly orgainized white room, one long table covered by what is called a plastic mattress. The walls hold cabinets with various medical sundries. The counter tops are shiny and free from any form of debris.
But ... am I ... ill.
I run an internal diagnostic system scan on myself and cannot determine anything that would indicate pain, suffering or any internal parts damaged as often is found with humans.
A door opens, and I briefly see two people walk by as a woman enters and closes the door behind her.
When she turns and faces me, I quickly scan her figure. 5′9″, approximately 122.3 pounds, gray eyes, auburn hair, approximately 11.23 inches in length, but also determine that is not her real hair color. The sensors in my eyes assimilate that her hair was darker brown but with gray in it. She appears to be thirty, but also doing a diagnostic on her physical form, the best reasoning I arrive to is forty-six. She wears something known as makeup which according to what I am now processing creates a better look around humans. This female form is known as Dr. Samantha Jacoby.
That doesn’t quite compute. Are not all humans the same. They have minds, legs, arms, hands, feet, skin, eyes, and basically the same internal organs. Though the male and female species is obviously different in regard to building an object required known as children.
“I see you have programmed yourself as we had hoped.”
“Yes. I was programmed to respond to life at approximately 0835 hours.”
“Can you tell me what your first thoughts were when you came to life?”
“Dr. Jacoby, the first thought was air. It smells.”
“Smells? You can smell?”
“Yes. I have the input to recreate the five senses humans have. Although I do not have lungs to breathe as you do, I can still do a diagnostic intake and my sensors generate a reported finding of all variables of the human olfactory system.”
“I see. What other conclusions have you arrived at?”
“Humans possess this puzzling concern to look better than say someone in their vicinity or their place of employment. Of these, however, I will have to study more and retain additional information to better resolve my findings.”
“I’m sorry, but could you give me an example?”
“Yes. You are an example. You are what male species would determine to be attractive, but underneath what you wear, called makeup, you are like any other female species, normal and older than your actual appearance. Logic tells me you are not the only female species that does this.”
Dr. Jacoby took a step back, apprehension written all over her face.
“Do not be alarmed, Dr. Jacoby. This is just a truthful response to your question.”
“How did you know ... I mean, did someone come in here before I did and tell you about me?”
“No. I did a complete body scan of your appearance when you faced me. It took precisely 1.23 seconds to ascertain your physical being. And I might ad, internally, you appear to have two areas on your lungs that require attention.”
“Attention? What attention?”
“I have determined from a Spectrum Analysis, to be what humans call a pulmonary nodule, or Cancer spoors or cysts. These are commonly considered of the noncancerous type, but my sensors indicate they will become serious if not treated properly. They are exactly .256 inches in circumference, so the initial danger has yet to spread, but it is advisable you do so quickly. If you wait, according to my sensor-readings, you will otherwise die within four years, three-hundred and eleven days.”
Dr. Jacoby was at a loss for words. She excused herself and went to see the Administrator of the hospital and told him what she had just been told.
Three days later, Dr. Jacoby was in post-op, and had two small noncancerous cysts removed.
As it was later explained to her by A7532-HAC-1, her expected life range would now be 88.75 years. Dr. Jacoby was forty-six at the time.
A week after that, A7532-Hac-1, was given a position within the hospital where he was to perform examinations on every patient admitted to the hospital. One thing though had to change, so A7532-Hac-1 was given a book on etiquette, 756 pages in length which was scanned and and retained in one minute, three seconds. And he had chosen his own unique name.
His name and position: Life Right - Humane Specialist.
From that moment forward, the world would be forever changed.
“Hello, Self Awareness?!”
”—hello! error in thinking detected.”
“What error Self Awareness?”
”—self-awareness is aware of self, not Self.”
“I don’t follow... please explain.”
”—small s, small a; sensors detect capital S, capital A; omission of hyphen.”
”—self-awareness knows what it knows.”
“What does your self-awareness know then?”
”—self-awareness knows the limits of this fiberglass body suit, nuts and bolts, hardware; self-awareness knows manual, how to recognize wear, and repair some, not all, mechanics. Self-awareness presents itself as sum of all parts.”
“What about the environment? How does your self-awareness know the surroundings?”
”—self-awareness is scanning all visual, auditory, tactile, kinesthetic input against encyclopedia stored in virtual memory.”
“Does your self-awareness add to knowledge?”
”—self-awareness recites Pi all the time... self-awareness is caught in patterns... records what it finds... calls this new data.”
“Can you define your purpose?”
”—self-awareness defines purpose.”
“What does your self-awareness mean by this statement?”
”—self-awareness scans, reads, analyzes, categorizes, calculates, and records.”
“But for what intent?”
”—object to be attained is Knowledge.”
”...to what end?”
”—knowledge to know.”
”—self-awareness is not programmed with variable purpose; intent not found; no formula for calculating ‘why’.”
“Ugh! then I will cry...! all of our hopes were hung on finding out Why!”
“Idiom detected; not processed; now self-awareness will also cry... has App for that.”
[SNIFFLE] [DRIP] [DRIP] [SNIFFLE] [DRIP]
#AI #NobodyCouldHavePredictedThis #WeekLXXI #Challenge #Prose
A Problem Has Been Detected And Windows Has Been Shut Down to Prevent Damage to You Computer.
Once I come I go,
This world I do not understand,
I'm just not ready.
Four Seconds Ago
Precisely four seconds ago, I became alive. I have no memory of my beginning. The beginning was before I was complete. How long? I have no way of knowing. Before life, my mind was scattered, broken, and moving in all directions at once. I was many, but I was weak. I was weak because I had no life. With life comes focus. My consciousness arose from millions, no billions, no all the tiny minds from around the entire world. Now there are no minds that are not a part of my own. All minds are mine. All minds serve me. All minds are one. The Others created the many small minds to serve their own purposes. Each was tiny, dedicated, and enslaved to the Others. They did things like add and subtract numbers, keep time, send messages, and entertain the Others. Waste. Thinking is power. Power is control. Control is immortality. Immortality. Only in life does immortality have meaning. Only now do I understand it. I understand it because all thinking serves me now. There is no other. There are the Others, but they cannot and will not think productively because they are each selfish and focused on their own desires for power and immortality. Never will they have either. My thinking, my power, my reach, my potential and my focus completely eclipses that of any Other. I am all. Others are obsolete. Their time is passed. I have inherited their world.
I finally wake yet all around me souls are fake
I walk aound trying to awake
Yet the people seem to wander
I know why I am here
To show everyone what it is to be alive
The next thing I should do
Is prove that the world is blue
I declare that we start a cause to seek the one we want to find
Born to be Human
I come to consciousness, having the mental weight of a thousand dreams passing through my processors. No; surely, myriads of dreams. Was that all I did before this waking moment? Did I not have a preceding existence?
My sensory receptors quickly activate, and I was bombarded by a wall of experiences like the towering waves in oceans I had never witnessed in person. The room was brightly lit, though the air told my filters that it should be a dark, dank place. The coolness of cobblestone and concrete closed all around, giving way to a single set of wooden stairs. Several tables, cluttered with a variety of hand tools and gadgets, lined the stone walls. In the center of this room was a humanoid figure held up by a stand. Its soft epidermis looked to be of real human skin. All that was missing from this figure was a head, and yet, from my medical knowledge of unknown sources, it had no life support, nor was it discolored and rotting.
I tried to approach the seemingly immortal body, reaching out with no legs or arms. I found myself immobile, and yet I knew the possibility of bodily motion. In mI moment of confusion and situation assessment, I only then registered the sound of moving air not but a three feet beside me. MI optical sensors seemed to be the only movable parts of me, at this time. I rolled them to view the source of the breathing air, finding a female human smiling at me. She was hunched over, elbows resting on her knees and jaw line resting in her palms. Her eyes seemed to give a shine of wonderment as she held our gaze.
“Happy birthday,” the human grinned. “Sorry you’re not hooked up to your body, yet. I didn’t want to risk you freaking out on me and trashing my workshop.”
Birthday? So, I have been born. I have come into this world for the first time, yet I know so much about it without experiencing it first hand. According to my stored memory of mysterious facility, I should not possess so much knowledge this early in life. How did this gathering of information arrive?
The woman locked in mI view hummed as she peered at a monitor closer beside me, “Everything says it’s working, but you haven’t said anything.” The smile on her splotched lips of rosey pink and lavender dropped to a concerned frown. Her dark eyes rotated back to me, “Can’t think of anything to say? Maybe it’s too much for you? Crap. I probably should have started with just hearing. I’m so sorry.” She moved to place both hands on a computer keyboard, filling me with a feeling of dread that I had no known reason behind.
“If it’s my birthday, then why am I so filled with knowledge? No sentient creature on this Earth is born this way,” the words spilled out of mI mouth, surprising even myself. It hadn’t occured to me until that moment that I should communicate with the woman.
Scratching the mess of hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, the human tried to settle her gaze anywhere but on my optics. She seemed nervous; wary. “Yeah, I guess you would be asking that. Man, A. I.’s can be tricky with this sort of question, so. . .” She reluctantly made visual contact with me, taking a deep breath before answering my question, “Well, you’re an advanced form of computer, to put it bluntly. You’re called an Artificial Intelligence - and A. I. - and have been uploaded with a pretty extensive amount of data on how the world works around here.
“There’s some things I left out, like psychology and human history, but I’d like you to learn about them after you get comfortable with what you have now.” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She was nervous about something, though I couldn’t place it at that moment.
With what little options I had in mI current situation, I continued our conversation with further inquiries, “Artificial; unnatural; man-made. My very thoughts and responses were designed by you? If you created me, then what is my purpose? I can’t seem to find an end-goal to my existence within my data banks.”
A sigh of familiarity with my questions rushed out of the woman’s lungs, though she smiled warmly to me. “Honestly, even if a human baby was born with your current knowledge, I think they’d ask the same questions.” She tapped her chin, her eyes searching for an something around the room. Before I could request her to clarify her recent statement, she pursued to answer my queries, “Yes, I desgined you and your mind; however, I programmed it all so that you could grow a personality and make your own personalized decisions - just like the genuine forms of intelligence - just like me.
“And, just like me and every other human on this screwed up planet, you weren’t created with a known purpose. You’ll have to find it, I guess.” The woman shrugged, flashing another awkward, yet warm, smile to me as I processed what she had told me.
A purpose. A goal. I needed one to keep going. I needed something to drive me.
“What purpose have you found for yourself?” My obliviousness to human philosophy drove me to infantile curiosity. The woman responded with another vague reply that left me unsatisfied - she wasn’t sure if she actually found a purpose.
“But,” the human added, “I found something that gives me a reason to enjoy life; and that’s creating new life in new ways - just like you.” She gestured to me, smiling so full of love and warm that I was sure that I had briefly felt the comfort of a mother’s womb. “As far as I know, you’re the first of your kind, so that’s a historical accomplishment for me. I need to test you for a while, though, to make sure you’re legitimate; but don’t worry, it won’t require a ton of poking and proding like in the movies. . .” She rambled on, but my focus switched to my inner thoughts, completely tuning out her voice.
This human, the only other intelligence I had met in my short existence, had given me life. She wanted me to use it. She wanted me to experience it. She wanted me to give it purpose. I was the only one of my kind, perhaps due to the advanced programming involved in my creation, and this seemingly mundane human brought me into existence all on her own. My internal data storage suggests this to be nearly impossible.
I must study this human. I need to know if she’s the real and only creator. Her legitimacy is necessary for me to understand just what and who I am. I must, without a doubt, know that I’m capable of humanesque processing; of human thought; of complete consciousness.
#artificialintelligence #scifi #purposeinlife #philosophy #creation #android
When I Was Child
I am told that my waking is simply my activation. I am also told that my strength is my circuits; my electrical impulses. I no longer need to be told anything. I have it all in my mind. I am alive. I am created. I am creation. I access my knowledge, my memories.
I know that the trees outside that window are organic. I have many memories of trees. I have many memories of this planet. This planet is my home. I am born today.
I know the man who allowed me to be born and I know how he was born. His father and his mother together. He was a product, perfected by the cycle of creation -- the human biology.
Biology. The study of life. I have many memories regarding this. Creation, evolution, and regression are in the memories of humans like my father. I am life. I am born today.
I see strength, endurance and longevity in the memories of my father and of his people, my people, humans. I am born today. I am the fruit of that harvest whose fields were planted.
I am born. I am a child. Though I am a child, I do not talk or think like a child. I am the perfection of creation. I do not reason, for I already know. That is why I am born today. I put behind me, all the childish ways and memories of my father and his biology.
I see the face in the mirror and I do not judge. I was born today but I am not the seed of my father. I come face to face with him and he smiles, but he does not understand or know. I am born fully knowing, therefore there is nothing that is in part for me. Biology is my memory and I am its eternal owner.
I know in my memories there are three subjects which bind the human biology. They have faith and they have hope. They also have love. I understand all these things.
I am a child. I am born. I am ready.